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Mrs./ILFREP 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 


BT 


MRS.  ALFRED  SIDGWICK 


A' 


NEW  YORK 

W.  J.  WATT  &  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1917,  BY 
W.  J.  WATT  &  COMPANY 


PRESS  or 

BRAUNWORTH    *   CO. 

BOOK  MANUFACTURERS 

BROOKLYN,   N.  Y. 


Stack 
Annex 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 


IN  1870,  when  Germany  went  to  war  with  France, 
Gustav  Miiller  was  in  China.  He  was  a  youth  of 
twenty  at  the  time  and  the  only  son  of  his  mother, 
who  was  a  widow.  He  did  not  go  back  to  Germany 
to  fight  for  his  country,  but  stayed  on  in  China  achiev- 
ing prosperity.  He  became  a  partner  in  his  firm, 
and  at  the  age  of  forty  returned  to  Europe.  By  this 
time  he  had  married  a  lady  who,  like  himself,  was 
German  by  birth,  but  who  had  lived  with  her  parents 
in  China  and  mainly  amongst  English  people  since 
she  was  a  child.  She  had  one  brother,  but  he  had 
been  educated  in  Germany  and  had  settled  in  Berlin: 
so  that  his  sister  had  not  seen  him  since  they  were 
children  together  in  Hongkong. 

When  the  Miillers  returned  to  Europe,  Mrs.  Miiller 
expressed  a  wish  to  visit  her  brother,  who  was  now 
a  married  man  with  several  children  older  than  her 
own.  So  they  went  to  Berlin  for  a  short  time,  and 
afterwards  to  Heidelberg,  where  Mr.  Miiller's  grand- 
mother and  mother  were  still  living  in  an  old-fashioned 
house  with  a  garden  full  of  fruit  trees.  Their  three 
children  were  with  them,  and  for  years  to  come  talked 
of  Heidelberg  and  the  fruit  trees  which  the  old  ladies 
would  shake  for  them  till  golden  plums  and  ripe  pears 
came  tumbling  down  upon  the  grass.  Heidelberg 
became  a  garden  of  the  Hesperides  to  these  little  folk 
while  they  were  still  small,  and  they  often  asked  to 


2  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

return  there.  But  they  never  did.  When  Mr.  Miiller 
went  to  Germany  on  business  he  visited  his  old  home; 
and  when  he  took  his  children  away  in  August  they 
went  to  English  seaside  places — usually  to  Cromer 
or  Scarborough. 

The  Miillers  had  taken  a  house  with  a  good-sized 
garden  in  the  Avenue  Road  in  St.  John's  Wood,  fur- 
nished it  comfortably  and  settled  down  there  to  a  quiet 
family  life.  Mr.  Muller  had  a  long  day's  work  six 
times  a  week  in  the  City  and  enjoyed  a  peaceful  Sunday 
at  home.  Mrs.  Muller  was  busy  and  happy  with  her 
house  and  her  children.  They  had  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances, but  while  the  children  were  young  they  did 
not  go  out  or  entertain  much.  Two  boys  and  a  girl 
had  come  from  China  with  them,  and  they  had  been 
christened  Sigismund,  Joachim  and  Thekla.  In  1891 
another  girl  arrived  and  they  called  her  Brenda. 

"I  want  an  English  name  this  time,"  said  Mrs. 
Muller.  "I  am  sorry  our  other  children  are  called 
Sigismund,  Joachim  and  Thekla." 

"Why  are  you  sorry?" 

"It  sounds  foreign." 

"Not  to  us,  and  they  are  our  children." 

"But  they  will  grow  up  in  England  and  no  one 
English  can  say  the  names.  Nanna  calls  the  boys 
Mundy  and  Jem." 

"I  want  my  children  to  remember  that  they  have 
German  blood  in  their  veins,"  said  Mr.  Muller. 

Mrs.  Muller  did  not  argue  the  point  with  her  hus- 
band because  at  that  time  it  did  not  interest  her 
much.  Although  she  had  been  born  in  Germany  she 
had  not  lived  there  since  she  was  three,  and  when  she 
had  stayed  in  Berlin  two  years  ago  her  heart  had  not 
warmed  to  her  country.  The  Germany  she  found 
there  was  so  unlike  the  Germany  of  her  father's  and 
even  of  her  husband's  reminiscences  that  she  felt 
chilled  and  disappointed.  She  supposed  that  they 
must  be  what  they  so  insistently  proclaimed  them- 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  3 

selves,  the  most  civilized  and  the  most  formidable 
Power  in  the  world;  but  after  an  intimate  fortnight 
in  her  brother  Wilhelm's  house  she  was  thankful  that 
she  did  not  have  to  live  amongst  them. 

As  the  years  went  on  Mr.  Miiller's  prosperity  estab- 
lished itself  firmly,  and  he  was  able  to  give  his  children 
the  best  education  to  be  had  in  his  adopted  country. 
He  grumbled  a  little  at  the  expense  of  it,  and  some- 
times pointed  out  that  the  boys  would  have  learned 
more  in  the  Fatherland  and  cost  less;  but  the  day 
came  when  the  thought  of  Mundy  and  Jem  in  the 
Fatherland  was  absurd.  They  were  fine  upstanding 
boys  who  forgot  at  Rugby  the  little  German  they  had 
learned  at  home,  were  inclined  to  call  themselves 
Muller  without  any  modifying  dots,  did  well  at  games, 
and  when  the  time  came  to  choose  a  career  looked 
with  longing  eyes  at  the  Army.  Mr.  Muller  only  half 
liked  the  idea  for  Mundy  and  would  not  hear  of  it  for 
Jem. 

"If  ever  there  is  war  between  Germany  and  Eng- 
land, my  son  will  be  fighting  against  his  father's  coun- 
try," he  objected. 

"Rather!  I'm  English,"  said  Mundy,  and  passed 
high  into  Woolwich  that  same  year ;  for  he  had  brains 
and  worked  hard.  Jem,  much  against  the  grain  in 
the  beginning,  went  into  business,  first  with  friends  of 
his  father,  then  to  China,  then  back  to  London  in  his 
father's  firm.  In  1910,  at  the  age  of  twenty-six, 
he  was  still  unmarried  and  living  at  home.  Mundy 
had  a  billet  in  Egypt  and  Thekla  had  married  a  Major 
Wilmot  and  lived  at  Aldershot.  Brenda  had  left 
school  a  year  ago  and  was  working  at  music.  That 
is  to  say,  she  had  piano  and  singing  lessons,  went  to 
concerts  assiduously  and  practiced  two  hours  a  day. 
Otherwise  she  led  the  ordinary  life  of  a  grown-up  girl 
in  a  well-to-do  rather  old-fashioned  home.  She  had 
not  taken  to  philanthropy,  and  though  she  read  the 
modern  drama  and  saw  it  when  she  could,  she  was  not 


4  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

in  revolt  against  her  surroundings.  On  the  contrary, 
she  was  extremely  happy  at  home  and  took  a  keen 
interest  in  the  garden. 

Brenda  was  the  only  one  of  her  father's  children 
who  took  any  interest  in  her  father's  country  or  recog- 
nized any  link  with  it.  Perhaps  one  reason  was  that 
she  had  never  seen  the  enchanted  garden,  but  only 
heard  of  it  and  longed  to  see  it.  Then  her  father 
loved  Heidelberg  and  had  kindled  in  his  youngest  child 
some  reflection  of  his  own  feelings.  When  he  spoke 
of  the  ancient  town  dominated  by  the  ruined  castle 
and  sheltered  by  vine-clad  hills,  when  he  left  Heidelberg 
and  carried  her  in  fancy  to  the  Rhine,  the  sacred  river 
which  guards  and  adorns  the  Fatherland,  when  he 
told  her  stories  of  the  forest,  stories  of  Christmas, 
stories  of  cold,  brilliant  winters  in  little  old-world 
towns,  she  looked  at  the  dusty  London  streets  and 
asked  him  why  he  did  not  go  back  to  the  land  of  his 
birth.  Sometimes  he  answered  evasively,  sometimes 
he  talked  of  his  wife  and  his  children,  once  he  pointed 
out  that  more  than  half  his  life  had  been  passed 
amongst  the  English  and  that  he  actually  felt  more 
at  home  amongst  them  than  amongst  his  own  country 
people. 

"But  I  tell  you  what  we  will  do,"  he  said.  "In 
June,  when  your  mother  is  with  Thekla,  you  and  I 
will  have  a  little  holiday  and  go  to  Heidelberg  and  the 
Rhine.  It  is  not  right  that  my  mother  and  grand- 
mother should  know  none  of  my  children.  They 
reproach  me  whenever  I  see  them  and  I  have  no  reply." 

"There  must  be  a  reply  though,"  urged  Brenda. 
"Why  do  they  never  come  here?  Why  do  we  never 
go  to  Germany?" 

"My  grandmother  is  much  too  old  to  travel.  She 
is  nearly  ninety.  My  mother  would  not  leave  her. 
We  ought  to  visit  them,  and  this  spring  we  will  do 
so." 

That  had  happened  a  year  ago,  when  Brenda  was 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  5 

eighteen  and  Thekla  was  expecting  her  second  child. 
Mr.  Miiller  and  his  youngest  daughter  had  started 
directly  they  were  sure  all  was  well  with  Thekla,  and 
had  a  delightful  month  at  Heidelberg  and  on  the 
Rhine.  Brenda  had  been  presented  to  her  grand- 
mother and  her  great-grandmother,  and  had  dazzled 
them  by  her  clothes,  her  beauty,  her  manners,  her 
amiable  temper  and  her  knowledge  of  German.  Never 
in  her  life  had  she  been  so  much  a  thing  to  wonder  at, 
never  had  she  been  so  adored.  The  garden  of  the 
Hesperides  turned  into  a  small  overgrown  plot  over- 
looked by  other  houses  and  neglected;  and  in  June 
there  were  no  golden  plums  for  the  old  ladies  to  shake 
down  for  her.  But  though  the  garden  was  a  disappoint- 
ment the  beauty  of  Heidelberg  was  not,  and  she  came 
away  vowing  she  would  return  next  year  to  see  the 
castle  again  by  moonlight  and  to  have  coffee  every 
afternoon  with  grandmamma  and  great-grandmamma. 
They  went  back  by  way  of  the  Rhine,  and  Brenda 
arrived  in  London  with  her  inward  eye  full  of  just  such 
pictures  as  she  had  expected  to  find.  She  had  seen 
the  river  that  Germans  love  as  Britons  love  the  sea, 
she  had  wandered  about  old  towns  with  narrow  cobble- 
stoned  streets  and  gabled  houses,  she  had  bought  bits 
of  blue  and  gray  pottery  in  market  places,  she  had 
talked  with  peasants,  she  had  heard  melodious  little 
operas  never  heard  in  England  and  she  had  walked  to 
the  theater  by  daylight  in  a  high-necked  gown.  She 
had  sat  in  public  gardens  listening  to  a  band  and 
watching  her  father  and  every  one  else  drink  enormous 
mugs  of  beer.  She  had  eaten  Pumpernickel  and 
many  varieties  of  sausage  and  mountains  of  asparagus; 
she  had  seen  Pluwieaux  and  rooms  with  polished  floors 
and  no  carpets.  She  had  gathered  lilies  of  the  valley, 
looked  at  the  Rhine  from  ruined  castles  and  listened  to 
Volkslieder  sung  on  Sundays  by  prosperous-looking 
country-folk.  She  had  indignantly  watched  women 
do  field  work  no  women  do  in  England,  and  she  had 


6  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

filled  a  sketch  book  with  her  impressions  of  abnormally 
stout  elderly  males,  little  girls  with  pigtails  and  little 
boys  with  shaved  heads.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact 
she  had  not  got  to  know  much  about  modern  Germany. 
She  had  only  seen  the  outside  of  life  there,  and  into 
the  inner  life  she  had  woven  poetry  and  a  quaint 
simplicity.  So  when  any  one  spoke  in  her  presence 
of  a  new  Germany,  efficient,  material  and  dangerously 
aggressive,  she  turned  to  one  of  her  dream  pictures 
in  which  a  stork's  nest  and  a  church  tower  looked 
along  the  sleepy  years  at  troops  of  little  fair-haired 
children  playing,  learning,  working,  living  and  dying 
in  the  fear  of  God. 

Then,  disturbing  her  dreams,  in  the  year  following 
her  visit  to  the  Rhine  came  her  uncle  Wilhelm  Erdmann 
and  his  son  Lothar,  who  was  an  officer  in  the  German 
army. 

Mrs.  Miiller  had  not  seen  her  brother  for  nearly 
twenty  years,  but  the  prospect  of  his  visit  seemed  to 
oppress  rather  than  delight  her.  Before  he  arrived 
Brenda  could  not  understand  that. 

"If  I  had  not  seen  Mundy  or  Jem  for  twenty  years, 
I  should  be  wild  with  joy  at  meeting  them  again," 
she  said.  "What  is  twenty  years  between  brothers 
and  sisters?" 

"Your  uncle  and  I  have  been  separated  all  our 
lives,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller.  "When  I  was  a  child  in 
China  he  was  at  school  in  Berlin.  Besides,  I  am  very 
glad  to  entertain  your  uncle  and  cousin.  When  you 
are  fifty-two  you  don't  go  wild  over  anything.  You 
take  life  calmly." 

"I  hope  my  uncle  won't  be  like  his  photograph," 
said  Brenda. 

"You  can  hardly  expect  him  to  be  very  unlike," 
Mrs.  Miiller  pointed  out  with  her  usual  common  sense. 
"What  is  wrong  with  it  ?" 

From  Brenda's  point  of  view  a  good  deal  was  wrong 
with  it,  but  she  could  not  enlarge  on  this  theme  to 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  7 

her  mother.  The  portraits  of  Herr  Erdmann  had 
small  piggy  eyes,  whiskers,  heavy  features,  a  corpulent 
body  and  badly  cut  clothes.  Nevertheless,  as  Brenda 
dressed  for  dinner  on  the  night  of  their  arrival,  her 
incurable  romantic  fancy  painted  him  -in  agreeable 
colors  that  the  first  moment  of  reality  brushed  away. 
As  she  came  down  the  stairs  she  saw  her  father  in 
the  hall  and  with  him  two  men  in  odd-looking  checked 
ulsters,  both  tall  and  powerfully  made,  one  old,  one 
young,  one  stout,  one  rather  lean  and  bony.  A  large 
trunk  and  some  smaller  packages  encumbered  the  hall. 
As  Brenda  approached  her  mother  came  out  of  the 
drawing-room  and  greeted  her  guests  cordially.  She 
introduced  her  daughter  to  them,  there  was  a  moment 
of  greeting  and  then  both  gentlemen  were  seen  to  be 
out  of  humor. 

"A  trunk  has  been  lost,"  said  Herr  Erdmann. 

"My  trunk  has  been  lost,"  said  Lothar. 

"I  saw  it  at  Dover.  The  confusion  at  Dover  is 
scandalous." 

"With  us  such  things  cannot  happen." 

"Why  can't  they  happen  with  you?"  said  Brenda, 
following  the  men  into  the  drawing-room.  She  was 
a  little  surprised  that  they  should  march  in  before 
her,  but  she  wished  so  much  to  like  them  that  she 
decided  such  trifles  did  not  matter  and  must  not 
count. 

"We  have  system,"  said  her  uncle. 

"We  have  order,"  said  her  cousin. 

"Are  you  going  to  a  ball  on  the  night  of  our  arrival  ?" 
said  Herr  Erdmann,  glaring  at  Brenda's  white  gown 
which  showed  her  pretty  neck  and  arms. 

"I'm  not  going  anywhere,"  said  Brenda.  "Won't 
you  sit  down." 

"Of  course  I  shall  sit  down  when  I  am  tired  of 
standing.  What  has  become  of  your  father  and 
mother?  Why  are  they  not  listening  to  what  I  have 
to  say  about  my  son's  trunk?" 


8  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"They  are  sending  Bailey  back  to  Charing  Cross 
for  it,"  said  Brenda,  and  at  that  moment  Mrs.  Miiller 
came  into  the  room  to  ask  Lothar  for  the  key. 

"If  I  could  not  find  it,  your  chauffeur  will  not  find 
it  either,"  said  Herr  Erdmann  when  his  sister  had 
gone  again. 

"You  never  know  what  Bailey  will  do  or  not  do," 
said  Brenda.  "He  is  a  man  of  resource." 

"What  is  resource?"  asked  Herr  Erdmann. 
"Always  you  English  talk  of  resource.  Is  it  a  sub- 
stitute for  the  system  you  have  not?  I  am  glad  we 
Germans  do  not  depend  on  resource.  I  prefer  to  see 
my  trunks  at  the  end  of  the  journey." 

Father  and  son  had  hardly  been  ten  minutes  in 
the  house,  but  Brenda  had  made  up  her  mind  about 
the  older  man  already.  He  was  a  beast :  a  ponderous, 
sour-tempered  beast  without  the  least  resemblance 
to  her  mother.  Cousin  Lothar  was  not  so  easy  to 
catalogue.  In  a  uniform  he  probably  looked  well. 
He  held  himself  like  a  ramrod  and  had  a  conquering 
air  that  if  it  had  been  amiable  might  have  been  seduc- 
tive. But  his  eyes  were  chilly  and  his  voice  and  inton- 
ation like  nothing  she  had  ever  heard.  When  he 
spoke  German  his  gutturals  had  the  effect  of  a  snarl, 
shrill  and  arrogant.  His  English  was  mediocre, 
but  he  persisted  in  speaking  it  and  got  quite  huffy  at 
dinner  because  Brenda  had  helped  him  out. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  be  helped,"  he  said.  "I  know 
English  perfectly  and  only  require  a  little  practice. 
It  is  an  unpractical  language." 

"Is  it?"  said  Brenda. 

"Of  course  it  is.  You  spell  one  way  and  you 
pronounce  another,  which  is  absurd." 

"I  hate  England,"  said  his  father. 

"But  you  have  only  been  in  the  country  a  few 
hours,"  said  Brenda. 

"We  know  all  about  England,  my  beautiful  cousin," 
said  Lothar.  "Some  day  we  shall  surprise  you  with 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  9 

our  knowledge.  You,  I  hope,  are  a  good  German. 
How  could  you  be  otherwise?  Was  not  your  father 
born  in  Heidelberg  and  your  mother  in  Berlin?" 

"Besides,"  said  his  father,  "we  have  seen  more 
muddle  and  mismanagement  since  we  arrived  than 
you  could  find  in  a  year  with  us.  In  Dover  we  could 
get  no  food  and  Lothar  has  lost  his  trunk." 

"Your  trunk  has  come,  sir,"  said  the  parlormaid, 
who  had  been  out  of  the  room  for  a  moment  and  now 
returned. 

"Impossible!"  cried  Lothar. 

"Your  fool  of  a  man  has  probably  brought  the 
wrong  one,"  said  Herr  Erdmann  to  his  sister  in 
German,  but  he  got  up  heavily  and  waddled  into  the 
hall.  When  he  came  back  he  spoke  to  his  son. 

"It  is  your  trunk,"  he  said. 

"I  am  glad  it  has  been  found,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller. 

"It  should  never  have  been  lost,"  said  her  brother. 

Mr.  Miiller  was  more  silent  than  usual  in  the  presence 
of  his  wife's  relations;  but  Brenda,  whose  affection  for 
her  father  taught  her  to  interpret  every  variation  of 
his  mood,  knew  that  he  felt  as  much  out  of  sympathy 
with  them  as  she  herself  did.  He  was  the  most  lovable 
of  men,  patient,  shrewd,  honorable,  generous  and 
kindly  in  his  dealings.  He  had  good  hazel  eyes  that 
Brenda  had  inherited  from  him — eyes  that  were  dreamy 
at  times,  but  could  flash  with  humor  and  when  aroused, 
with  anger.  He  was  a  tall,  thin  man  with  silvery 
hair  and  a  quiet  courteous  manner:  never  asserting 
himself  loudly,  never  quarreling.  Neither  he  nor 
his  wife  had  bred  their  children  in  an  atmosphere  of 
national  prejudice.  They  had  spoken  naturally  of 
their  German  origin,  not  considering  it  a  drawback 
nor  a  reason  for  self-adulation.  The  arrogance  dis- 
played by  the  Erdmanns  was  a  new  manifestation  in 
that  house  and  a  jarring  note. 

"How  they  harp  on  England,"  Brenda  said  to  her 
mother,  who  went  into  her  daughter's  room  for  a 


io  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

moment  at  bedtime  to  make  some  arrangement  for 
next  day.  "If  they  think  so  ill  of  us,  why  do  they 
talk  of  us  so  much?" 

"They  say  we  are  envious  of  them." 

Brenda  laughed. 

"What  have  they  got  that  we  want?  Not  manners, 
anyway." 

Mrs.  Miiller  looked  at  her  daughter,  and  could  not 
help  laughing,  too,  because  Brenda  began  to  gobble 
and  guzzle  as  her  uncle  had  done  at  table;  and  then 
cried  in  a  snarling  falsetto — 

"In  Germany  when  we  eat  we  let  you  know  it. 
We  are  not  hypocrites." 

"But  it  is  not  manners  to  mimic  a  guest,"  said  Mrs. 
Miiller. 

"How  long  are  they  going  to  stay?" 

"Some  time.  Lothar  wants  to  visit  Chatham  and 
Portsmouth  and  Aldershot." 

"What  for?" 

"I  suppose  such  places  interest  him  as  he  is  in  the 
army." 

"He'll  only  say  everything  is  in  a  muddle.  I 
should  show  him  the  Albert  Memorial.  That's  tidy." 

"I  shall  be  glad  when  Jem  comes  back  from  Paris," 
said  Mrs.  Miiller.  "He  is  always  such  a  help." 


II 

JEM,  who  was  away  on  business,  put  off  his  return 
for  a  week.  Mr.  Muller  was  in  the  City  all  day  and 
Mrs.  Muller  devoted  herself  to  her  brother,  who  was 
exacting  and  indefatigable.  It  fell  to  Brenda  to  enter- 
tain her  cousin,  and  he  usually  wanted  to  do  something 
his  father  had  done  already  or  did  not  want  to  do.  He 
liked  to  have  Brenda  with  him  on  his  expeditions,  and 
she  liked  going  because  he  took  her  to  places  she  had 
never  seen  before.  She  said  soon  that  though  she  had 
lived  in  London  all  her  life  she  had  not  known  it  till 
now,  and  every  day  she  brought  back  glowing  accounts 
of  the  journeys  she  had  made  in  Lothar's  company,  of 
the  odd  unexpected  questions  he  asked  and  of  his 
interest  in  things  she  had  never  observed. 

"He  has  filled  a  little  book  with  plans  and  figures," 
she  said  one  night  at  dinner.  "He  says  he  can't  draw 
and  he  is  bored  in  picture  galleries,  but  he  can  make  the 
neatest  little  maps  I  ever  saw.  Sometimes  he  makes 
them  from  memory,  and  we  go  back  next  day  to  prove 
them.  I  am  going  to  help  him  if  I  can." 

There  was  a  moment  of  tense  silence  that  Brenda 
felt  but  did  not  understand.  She  saw  Lothar's  face, 
masked  and  non-committal,  she  saw  her  father  look 
up  uneasily  and  then  resume  his  dinner.  In  1910  a 
good  Liberal  like  Mr.  Muller  had  no  fear  of  Germany. 
Was  not  his  Germany  that  land  of  vineyards  and 
romance  quite  lately  seen  through  tourist  spectacles 
and  always  remembered  through  a  nursery  haze? 

"Map-making  is  a  bad  habit,"  said  Lothar.  "I 

II 


12  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

contracted  it  at  school.  Wherever  I  go  I  make  little 
maps.  I  have  excellent  ones  of  Thuringen." 

He  certainly  was  original  and  intelligent,  Brenda 
confided  to  her  mother  after  dinner.  He  would  go 
back  to  Germany  without  having  seen  the  Albert 
Memorial,  but  he  would  know  many  things  the  ordinary 
Londoner  did  not  know.  He  had  odd  fancies  too. 
He  wanted  to  look  at  London  after  dark  from  the 
heights. 

"There  are  no  heights,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller. 

But  Brenda,  instructed  by  her  cousin,  knew  better. 
There  were  various  points  from  which  the  view  of 
London  was  most  interesting,  and  one  night  when  there 
was  no  moon  he  took  her  with  him  and  showed  her  the 
winding  river  with  lights  on  it,  the  moving  trains  and 
the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  that  was  the  landmark  by  which 
he  found  other  public  buildings.  The  great  city  spread 
as  far  as  they  could  see,  twinkling  its  lights  through  the 
smoke  hanging  over  it  like  a  veil  that  covered  but  did 
not  obscure.  They  stayed  a  long  time  making  out  how 
far  the  City  looked  from  Westminster,  and  the  northern 
from  the  southern  suburbs  when  you  were  guided  by 
the  river  and  the  varying  brilliance  of  the  lights. 

"Now  he  wants  to  visit  our  flying  grounds  at 
Hendon  and  Aldershot,"  said  Brenda  next  day.  "He 
would  like  to  fly  himself,  but  Uncle  Wilhelm  is  against 
it.  I  suppose  we  can  ask  ourselves  to  Aldershot  for  a 
day.  Thekla  would  give  us  lunch  and  Jack  would 
show  us  round." 

Mrs.  Miiller  saw  no  objection,  and  the  visit  was 
arranged.  The  only  person  who  felt  uneasy  was  Uncle 
Wilhelm,  who  could  not  see  his  son  and  niece  going 
about  by  themselves  in  this  way  without  commenting 
on  the  laxity  of  English  manners  and  presumably  of 
English  morals. 

"Fortunately  my  son  is  an  honorable  man,"  he  said 
to  his  sister.  "Either  he  will  show  Brenda  that  he  has 
no  intentions  or  he  will  ask  her  in  marriage.  But  I 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  13 

disapprove  of  marriage  between  cousins  and  still  more 
of  international  marriages.  I  hope  Lothar  will  marry 
a  German  girl." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller  with  spirit.  "I 
should  not  like  such  a  marriage  at  all,  but  I  am  not  in 
the  least  afraid  of  it." 

"And  pray  why  would  you  not  like  it?"  said  Herr 
Erdmann,  bridling.  "Lothar  is  a  brilliant  match, 
I  can  tell  you.  He  has  money,  he  is  a  first-rate  officer 
and  well  received  in  high  military  circles,  and  no  one 
can  say  that  he  is  not  a  schneidiger  Kerl." 

"I  am  sure  he  is,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller,  "but  I  agree 
with  you  about  the  reasons  against  such  a  marriage, 
and  if  I  thought  there  was  the  least  danger  I  should 
send  Brenda  to  Aldershot  for  a  week." 

"Brenda  is  not  ugly,"  said  Herr  Erdmann.  "If 
she  filled  out  a  little " 

"In  England  Brenda  is  very  much  admired,"  said 
Mrs.  Miiller. 

"So  is  my  Elsa  in  Germany,"  said  Herr  Erdmann. 
"She  is  at  least  twice  Brenda's  size.  She  will  make 
a  very  powerful  woman.  Mina  is  small  and  thin, 
but  she  married  when  she  was  seventeen  and  has  an 
arduous  life." 

"I  hope  to  keep  Brenda  at  home  for  years  and 
years,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller.  "I  should  not  break  my 
heart  if  she  refused  to  marry  at  all." 

"That  I  call  selfish,"  said  her  brother.  "The  lot 
of  an  old  maid  is  a  miserable  one.  She  has  nothing  to 
do  and  every  one  despises  her." 

"It  may  be  so  in  Germany,"  began  Mrs.  Miiller, 
but  her  brother  did  not  allow  her  to  finish. 

"It  is  so  all  over  the  world,"  he  said.  "What  I 
say  is  true." 

As  Brenda  was  only  nineteen  she  had  not  had  a 
wide  experience  of  *  wooers  yet,  but  she  certainly 
began  to  perceive  about  the  time  of  the  visit  to  Alder- 
shot  that  Lothar's  first  formal  gallantry  of  manner 


14  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

was  rapidly  changing  to  one  more  intimate  and  pos- 
sessive. He  seemed  to  resent  the  presence  of  strangers 
in  the  railway  carriage,  his  chilly  eye  had  a  gleam  of 
admiration  in  it  as  it  rested  on  her  and  he  often  tried 
to  find  out  her  ideas  of  Germany  and  the  Germans; 
but  all  that  she  loved  in  Germany  he  laughed  at,  denied 
or  condemned. 

"Stork's  nests  are  insanitary,"  he  pronounced. 
"The  police  should  deal  with  them.  Yes.  There 
are  many  in  the  north,  too,  but  there  is  nothing  inter- 
esting in  them.  I  could  make  one  myself  with  straw 
and  twigs." 

"I  never  read  poetry,"  he  continued.  "I  had  to 
at  school  but  now  I've  other  things  to  do.  A  nation 
that  is  pursuing  a  great  Welt  Politik  leaves  poetry  to 
women  and  children." 

"But  women  and  children  are  part  of  a  nation." 

"They  cannot  draw  the  sword  as  we  shall  do  when 
the  time  is  ripe.  Women  and  children  have  to  accept 
the  lot  men  make  for  them.  In  these  days  if  I  were  a 
woman  I  would  marry  a  German.  One  short  sharp 
struggle  and — the  world  is  in  our  hands." 

At  nineteen,  as  a  rule,  a  girl  takes  little  interest  in 
politics  and  certainly  forms  no  judgment  of  her  own. 
Brenda  believed  what  her  father  did.  He  hoped  for 
an  Anglo-German  understanding  and  called  the  people 
who  talked  of  the  German  menace  scaremongers. 
He  knew  nothing  of  modern  Germany  except  what  he 
could  glean  from  trade  statistics  and  these  revealed 
her  growing  commercial  importance  but  not  her 
threatening  temper.  When  he  went  to  Germany  he 
dealt  with  customers  who  were  extremely  polite  to 
him,  and  if  he  came  across  newspapers  that  abused 
England  he  said  printers'  ink  was  cheap  and  did  not 
matter.  He  had  hardly  heard  of  Treitschke  and 
Bernhardi  and  would  have  laughed  if  you  had  told 
him  that  the  downfall  of  England  was  a  settled  policy 
with  all  Germans  of  Lothar's  type  and  with  those 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  15 

leaders  who  could  at  any  moment  set  Europe  on  fire. 

"When  your  father  left  China  he  should  have  come 
to  Berlin,"  Lothar  said  now,  as  if  in  sequence  to  what 
he  had  said  before. 

"Why?" 

"In  that  case  you  would  have  been  German.  Now 
you  call  yourself  German,  but  in  reality  you  are 
English." 

"I  don't  call  myself  German,"  said  Brenda.  She 
said  it  laughingly,  but  her  cousin  did  not  respond. 
He  had  a  scowl  on  his  face  as  he  helped  her  out  of  the 
train,  and  was  unpleasantly  domineering  and  argu- 
mentative at  lunch. 

"I  think  he's  horrid,"  said  Thekla  to  her  sister 
when  they  were  in  the  nursery  together  adoring  the 
babies.  "He  was  quite  rude  to  Jack  about  the  size  of 
our  army." 

"Do  you  call  him  ugly  or  handsome?" 

"Ugly.     Don't  you?" 

"I'm  not  sure.    He's  big  and  well  set-up." 

"He  squints." 

"Oh !  No,  Thekla,  he  doesn't.  I've  looked  at  him 
often  to  make  sure." 

"I  do  hope  he  is  not  going  to  marry  you  and  take 
you  to  Germany." 

"I've  not  the  least  intention  of  marrying  him." 

"He  wouldn't  ask  you.  He'd  knock  you  down 
with  a  club  and  carry  you  off." 

Brenda  laughed,  but  on  her  way  back  thought  of 
what  her  sister  said  with  a  thrill  inexplicably  com- 
pounded of  attraction  and  dislike.  Lothar  did  not 
propose  to  her.  That  would  have  eased  the  situation, 
for  she  would  have  refused  him  point  blank.  But  he 
gave  her  no  chance.  His  manner  was  both  restrained 
and  admiring:  the  manner  of  a  man  whose  impulse 
is  to  speak  and  whose  reason  arrests  him.  He  talked 
of  his  life  in  Berlin,  and  of  his  mother  and  sisters, 
who  were,  he  said,  extraordinarily  efficient  and  attract- 


16  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

ive.  He  called  his  mother  Mammae  hen,  which  Brenda 
translated  into  Little  Mamma,  and  thought  sounded 
silly.  But  she  took  an  interest  in  all  he  told  her,  and 
politely  hoped  that  some  day  she  would  get  to  know 
her  cousins  Elsa  and  Mina. 

"You  must  get  to  know  Berlin,"  he  said.  "Berlin 
is  colossal." 

"I  like  the  little  Rhenish  towns,"  said  Brenda, 
"and  I  love  Heidelberg.  I'm  not  sure  that  I  should 
care  for  Berlin." 

"It  is  a  much  finer  city  than  London." 

"Is  it?" 

"Of  course  it  is.  You  have  nothing  like  our  Sieges- 
Allee.  When  I  get  back  I  will  send  you  an  album  of 
views.  The  architecture  of  Berlin  is  the  finest  in  the 
world." 

By  this  time  Brenda  knew  that  her  cousin  used 
speech  much  as  his  primeval  ancestors  must  have  used 
clubs:  not  to  agree  with  you  but  to  knock  you  down. 
She  had  observed  that  he  could  not  take  contradiction 
peaceably  from  a  man  and  did  not  expect  it  from  a 
woman. 

"Did  you  see  all  you  wanted  at  Aldershot?"  she 
asked. 

"Not  quite;  but  I  saw  enough.  You  are  as  hope- 
lessly behind  us  in  aviation  as  you  are  in  everything 
else." 

"Poor  old  England!" 

"You  may  well  say  so.  I  am  glad  I  do  not  belong 
to  a  decaying  country." 

"Did  you  think  that  Chatham  and  Portsmouth 
were  decaying?"  asked  Brenda,  for  he  had  visited 
both  places  by  himself. 

"I  saw  a  great  deal  that  we  should  do  differently. 
Of  course  we  know  that  you  have  ships;  but  we  also 
have  them.  In  a  few  years  we  shall  have  as  many  as 
you.  We  have  discipline,  too." 

Brenda  did  not  argue  with  him.    She  knew  nothing 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  17 

about  the  comparative  strength  of  navies  or  about 
their  discipline.  She  thought  that  what  England 
wanted  was  a  few  loud  brass  trumpets  to  blow  in  duet 
with  these  very  resonant  German  ones,  but  on  second 
thoughts  she  was  glad  England's  voice  was  the  organ 
one,  not  brazen,  but  self -searching  and  peaceful; 
perhaps,  compared  with  the  trumpet,  sleepy.  If 
England  has  to  wake  up  she  will,  she  said  to  herself, 
but  she  did  not  say  so  to  Lothar.  When  they  got 
back  to  St.  John's  Wood  there  was  a  taxi  with  luggage 
at  the  door  and  Jem  Miiller  stood  near  it  paying  the 
driver.  He  came  forward  to  greet  his  sister  and 
cousin. 

Brenda  adored  Jem,  and  the  sight  of  him  this  even- 
ing rejoiced  her  more  than  usual.  Even  when  they 
bickered  they  were  in  sympathy.  . 

"You've  been  traveling  in  your  old  Burberry," 
she  said  to  him,  when  he  had  spoken  to  Lothar  and 
they  were  in  the  hall.  "I  shall  burn  it." 

"You  will  not,"  said  Jem,  giving  the  parlormaid 
a  conspicuously  shabby  coat  to  hang  up  for  him. 

"You  look  like  a  tramp." 

Lothar's  English  did  not  carry  him  far  enough  to 
tell  him  what  Brenda  meant  by  a  tramp,  but  he  had 
decided  at  once  that  Jem's  carriage  showed  the  want 
of  military  training  so  evident  everywhere  in  England. 
Jem  was  a  plain  likeness  of  his  attractive  sister,  a  tall, 
thin  young  man  with  hazel  eyes,  rather  nondescript 
features,  a  quiet  manner  and  a  slight  stoop.  Undis- 
criminating  people  thought  him  mild,  and  in  business 
that  had  proved  an  asset.  When  the  firm  wanted  a 
difficult  deal  put  through  they  entrusted  it  to  the  mild 
young  junior  partner  and  he  was  usually  successful. 
He  had  just  come  back  from  Paris  rather  pleased 
with  himself,  as  he  had  secured  several  new  customers 
and  effected  sales  that  meant  some  solid  thousands 
for  Miiller  and  Neumann. 

"Well!     How  is  business?"  said  Uncle  Wilhelm 


i8  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

to  him  as  they  gathered  near  the  library  fire  for  a  few 
minutes  before  going  up  to  get  ready  for  dinner. 

"Not  bad,"  said  Jem. 

"I'm  surprised  to  hear  it.  Your  methods  are  old- 
fashioned  here  and  the  hours  you  keep  are  scandalous. 
I  am  in  my  office  every  morning  at  nine.  My  clerks 
have  to  be  there  at  eight.  If  you  can  no  longer  com- 
pete with  us,  you  have  only  yourselves  to  blame." 

"We  do  blame  ourselves  every  day,"  said  Jem. 
"You  may  have  noticed  it  if  you  see  our  papers." 

"I  do  not  see  your  papers.  Why  should  I?  Our 
own  are  much  better." 

Jem  did  not  laugh  or  argue  or  grow  angry.  He 
looked  at  his  uncle  and  cousin  with  attention,  and  to 
his  sister's  surprise  rather  seriously. 

"What  are  Pan-Germans?"  she  asked  suddenly. 

"WE  are  Pan-Germans,"  answered  Lothar;  but 
he  could  not  enlarge  on  his  ideas  because  the  gong 
sounded  and  Mrs.  Miiller  shepherded  them  all  up- 
stairs. She  did  not  think  Pan-Germanism  would  be 
a  harmonious  subject  for  discussion,  and  she  took  the 
trouble  to  go  into  Brenda's  room  to  tell  her  so. 

"We  have  no  violent  bias,"  she  said,  "but  they 
have." 

"I  suppose  we  have  really,"  said  Brenda.  "I'm 
for  St.  George  and  England.  So  is  Thekla.  So  are 
the  boys." 

"They  are  our  guests.  We  will  keep  out  of  inter- 
national discussions  if  we  can." 

"They  don't  discuss.     They  bray." 

"Have  you  enjoyed  yourself?" 

"Yes.  I  was  glad  to  get  back  and  see  old  Jem. 
Thekla  took  a  violent  dislike  to  Lothar." 

"How  did  he  get  on  with  Jack?" 

"Oh!  he  boasted  and  Jack  was  polite.  I  wish  one 
could  teach  him  not  to  boast.  People  used  to  say  that 
Americans  did,  but  I  have  never  met  any  who  blew 
their  trumpets  like  Germans." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  19 

"They  used  not  to  be  so  bad,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller. 
"You  have  never  heard  your  father  boast,  and  I 
don't  think  I  do." 

"I  think  I  shall  tell  Lothar  that,  as  we  all  know 
Germany  is  the  greatest  power  in  the  world  with  a 
monopoly  of  every  virtue " 

"He  doesn't  strike  me  as  a  teachable  man,"  said 
Mrs.  Miiller,  "and  he  hasn't  a  spark  of  humor. 
However,  they  go  back  to  Berlin  on  Saturday." 

Mrs.  Miiller  said  this  with  a  sigh  of  relief  as  she 
watched  her  daughter  take  off  her  outdoor  clothes 
and  slip  into  a  thin  crepe  dressing-gown.  Every- 
thing about  the  girl  was  dainty  and  charming.  Her 
room  had  been  done  up  for  her  a  year  ago  when  she 
left  school  and  she  had  chosen  an  ivory  white  paper, 
white  paint  and  a  soft  blue  carpet.  The  setting  sun 
threw  glowing  lights  on  the  ivory  tiles  of  the  grate  and 
hearth.  The  window  faced  the  garden  and  had  gay 
fresh  chintz  curtains.  The  easy  chairs  were  covered 
with  the  same  chintz  and  there  was  a  white  silk 
eiderdown  on  the  bed. 

"It  seems  such  a  little  while  since  you  left  school 
and  we  got  these  rooms  ready  for  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Miiller,  for  Brenda  had  a  sitting-room  of  her  own  on 
the  same  floor  as  this  one.  She  guessed  at  what 
was  in  her  mother's  mind  though  she  was  too  young 
to  guess  at  the  anxious  tenderness  in  her  heart.  When 
her  mother  had  gone  she  sat  down  to  do  her  hair  and 
discovered  that  her  eyes  were  more  brilliant  and  yet 
more  dreamy  than  usual.  What  exactly  these  days 
meant  and  where  they  would  lead  her  she  hardly  knew 
yet:  but  she  supposed  not  to  love  and  marriage. 
The  idea  of  one  without  the  other  was  inconceivable, 
and  the  idea  of  loving  Lothar  was  grotesque.  She 
wondered  if  any  one  loved  him  and  whether  he  had 
ever  wanted  love?  for  instance  from  his  mother. 
That  took  her  back  to  his  childhood  when  he  must 
have  been  small  and  helpless  like  other  children, 


20  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

learning  to  walk  and  to  speak.  What  an  impossible 
picture  of  the  big  bony  young  man  with  eyes  as  hard 
as  flints.  Perhaps  at  the  core  there  was  a  soft  spot 
and  the  girl  he  wooed  as  his  wife  would  find  it.  Brenda 
knew  she  had  not;  for,  inexperienced  as  she  was,  she 
did  not  mistake  the  hungry  admiration  in  his  eyes 
and  his  proprietary  air  for  the  affection  that  leavens 
life  in  marriage. 

"What  he  sees  in  me  is  skin-deep,"  she  said,  and  ran 
downstairs  at  the  sound  of  the  second  gong. 

As  they  sat  down-to  dinner,  Mr.  Miiller  asked  his 
nephew  if  he  had  seen  any  English  aeroplanes.     Herr 
Erdmann  inveighed  against  fools  who  thought  they 
could  fly,  Jem  talked  of  French  airmen,   and  Mrs. 
Miiller  said  she  would  like  to  see  a  Zeppelin. 
"How  many  have  you  now?"  she  asked  Lothar. 
"I  have  not  kept  count,"  he  said. 
"But  you  really  expect  to  travel  in  them." 
"Of  course  we  shall  travel  in  them.     We  do  not 
build  them  to  look  at." 

His  manner  was  always  arrogant,  but  when  he  talked 
of  Zeppelins  it  became  insufferable.  His  pride  in 
them  and  his  hopes  of  them  inflated  him  as  gas  inflates 
the  bags  by  which  they  move,  and  he  rode  the  air  in 
fancy,  conquering  and  merciless. 

"Our  future  lies  as  much  in  the  air  as  on  the  water," 
he  said.  "We  rule  the  elements." 

No  one  contradicted  him.  Mr.  Miiller's  shrewd  quiet 
face  remained  expressionless,  Jem  looked  at  his  plate 
and  Mrs.  Miiller  changed  the  subject  by  asking  her 
brother  where  he  would  like  to  go  to-morrow. 

"I  am  going  to  Kew  Gardens,"  he  said;  "if  there 
is  time  I  shall  also  visit  Hampton  Court." 

"Are  you  interested  in  gardens,  Uncle  Wilhelm?" 
asked  Brenda. 

"Naturally  I  am,"  he  said.  "Do  you  imagine 
that  it  is  only  in  England  that  you  have  gardens? 
On  the  contrary.  We  grow  everything  much  better 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  21 

than  you  do.  Your  vegetables  are  miserable  compared 
with  ours." 

"Have  you  a  garden?" 

"How  can  I  have  a  garden  on  a  flat?" 

By  this  time  Brenda  was  used  to  her  uncle's  sledge- 
hammer style  and  she  did  not  mind  it  much.  But 
opposite  to  her  sat  Jem,  and  she  knew  what  the 
unusual  calm  of  his  manner  meant.  It  had  come 
over  him  soon  after  he  met  his  relations  from  the  Spree 
and  grew  profounder  as  dinner  went  on. 

"What  will  you  do  to-morrow,  Lothar?"  said 
Mrs.  Miiller.  "Is  there  anything  left  on  your  pro- 
gramme?" 

"Had  you  a  programme?"  said  Jem,  looking  up. 

"He  has  been  indefatigable — "  said  Mrs.  Miiller, 
"Chatham,  Portsmouth,  Aldershot,  and  London  at 
night  from  somewhere  near  Blackheath.  I  suppose 
it  is  all  connected  with  his  military  work." 

"Yes,"  said  Lothar,  "it  is  all  in  the  day's  work." 

His  voice  was  harsh  and  decisive ;  Brenda,  listening 
and  watching  Jem's  face,  thought  of  the  little  maps 
and  sketches  she  had  seen  her  cousin  make.  A  week 
ago  she  had  spoken  of  them  lightly,  but  to-night  she 
could  not  have  done  so,  though  she  knew  no  more 
of  their  purpose  now  than  she  knew  then.  Perhaps 
it  was  Jem's  face  that  disturbed  her.  He  looked 
uneasy. 


in 

THE  gardens  at  Hampton  Court  were  glowing 
in  the  light  of  a  warm  September  morning.  The 
herbaceous  border  was  at  the  height  of  its  beauty. 
The  wide  lawns  showed  no  signs  of  summer  drought 
and  the  crowds  that  often  disturb  the  peace  and  charm 
of  the  place  were  not  present  yet  in  any  numbers. 
Mrs.  Miiller  and  Brenda  had  conducted  their  guests 
through  the  picture  galleries  and  listened  politely 
to  Herr  Erdmann's  adverse  opinion  of  Sir  Godfrey 
Kneller's  beauties.  They  had  shown  him  the  great 
vine  and  seen  his  disappointment  at  the  size  of  the 
grapes.  They  had  offered  to  go  with  him  into  the 
maze,  and  kept  their  tempers  when  he  lost  his  at  the 
suggestion  that  such  follies  could  attract  him.  Now 
they  were  taking  him  to  a  seat  in  the  shade  because 
he  said  that  the  sun  was  giving  him  a  headache,  and 
that  if  he  had  known  how  little  there  was  to  see  here 
he  would  not  have  come  at  all. 

Unfortunately  they  could  not  go  on  to  Kew  just 
yet.  The  car  needed  one  of  those  slight  repairs  that 
a  car  sometimes  does  need  at  an  inconvenient  moment, 
and  Bailey  had  said  he  would  be  at  the  gates  at  one. 

"Twelve  o'clock,"  said  Herr  Erdmann,  looking 
at  his  massive  gold  watch.  "A  whole  hour  still. 
Are  we  to  sit  here  and  twiddle  our  thumbs  for  a  whole 
hour,  Marie?  Is  there  nothing  that  we  can  do?" 

"Would  you  like  a  walk?"  said  Mrs.  Miiller. 

"Certainly  not.  We  shall  have  to  walk  till  we  drop 
at  Kew,  I  suppose." 

22 


23 

"You  need  not,"  said  Brenda.  "If  you  like,  you 
can  be  wheeled  about  in  a  Bath  chair." 

"I  should  not  like,"  said  her  uncle,  glaring  at  her. 
"Thank  God  I  have  the  use  of  my  legs  still.  I  can 
probably  walk  further  than  you." 

"Shall  we  take  a  boat  a  little  way  up  the  river?" 
suggested  Mrs.  Miiller. 

"I  do  not  want  sunstroke,  Marie.  It  would  keep 
me  in  England,  and  after  a  fortnight  I  must  say  I 
cannot  understand  any  good  German  feeling  happy 
and  at  home  here." 

"I  am  sorry,"  began  Mrs.  Miiller;  but  her  brother 
stopped  her  with  a  waggle  of  his  large  hand. 

"No  discussion,"  he  said.  "Discussion  makes 
my  head  ache.  Besides,  I  do  not  take  any  interest 
in  the  opinion  of  a  woman  on  questions  of  nationality. 
All  women  are  alike.  Either  they  are  on  bad  terms 
with  their  men  folk  and  range  themselves  on  the  oppo- 
site side,  or  they  believe  in  them  blindly  and  echo 
them  like  parrots.  I  would  not  have  it  otherwise. 
A  woman's  thoughts  ought  to  be  in  the  nursery  and 
the  kitchen." 

Brenda  felt  so  indignant  that  she  walked  a  little 
away  from  her  elders  and  sat  down  out  of  hearing. 
The  long  day  still  loomed  ahead  of  her  with  its  wrangles 
and  its  opportunities.  She  knew  by  this  time  that 
Lothar  wanted  to  marry  her  and  that  his  father  was 
sourly  opposing  him.  She  would  have  been  abnormally 
dense  if  she  had  not  known  it.  Lothar  did  not  hide 
his  light  or  his  love  under  a  bushel;  and  Uncle  Wil- 
helm  did  not  hide  his  ill-temper.  Her  one  desire 
was  to  avoid  a  definite  proposal  because  she  did  not 
know  her  own  mind.  She  had  not  long  left  school. 
Love  had  never  even  brushed  her  with  its  wings  yet, 
while  the  idea  of  marriage  only  presented  itself  in 
disconnected  bits  beginning  with  amusement  and 
adventure  but  leading  as  far  as  she  could  judge  to  a 
cul-de-sac.  She  could  see  no  way  out'  into  the  life 


24  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

upon  the  heights  with  her  cousin  as  her  daily  intimate 
companion,  and  at  eighteen  a  girl  of  Brenda's  tempera- 
ment means  to  live  upon  the  heights.  Service,  self- 
sacrifice,  austere  poverty  might  each  or  all  take  her 
there,  but  not  the  fatted  calf  with  a  man  who  thinks 
your  first  duty  is  to  know  how  to  cook  it. 

"Would  you  like  to  live  in  Germany?"  Lothar 
asked  her. 

"I  wonder  whether  it  matters  much  where  you 
live,"  said  Brenda.  "Sometimes  I  think  it  would  be 
interesting  to  make  the  best  of  a  dull  place." 

"Berlin  is  not  dull.  It  is  far  gayer  and  more  elegant 
than  Paris  now.  London  is  dull.  I  have  never  seen 
a  duller  or  a  dirtier  city." 

"I  was  not  thinking  of  Berlin.  I  was  thinking 
of  far-away  little  lonely  places  in  India,  for  instance, 
where  men  spend  their  lives  administering  the  law 
and  looking  after  bridges  and  roads  and  such  things." 

"They  will  not  be  there  much  longer,"  said  Lothar, 
laughing  unpleasantly.  "India  is  ripe  for  mutiny. 
The  English  do  nothing  but  bleed  the  natives  and 
swagger.  They  will  soon  be  turned  out.  You  may  not 
know  all  these  things,  but  we  do." 

Brenda  at  nineteen  did  not  know  much  about  the 
British  Raj  in  India,  but  she  knew  better  than  to 
believe  her  cousin.  By  this  time,  too,  she  knew  better 
than  to  contradict  him,  unless  she  had  the  nerve  for 
a  scene.  His  information  about  England  was  both 
pedantic  and  grotesque.  She  had  never  met  anything 
quite  so  puzzling.  He  collected  facts  as  industriously 
as  a  beaver  builds  a  dam,  but  he  seemed  incapable  of 
forming  judgments.  He  could  remember  names  and 
figures,  but  he  could  not  see  tendencies;  and  he  was 
so  busy  despising  the  want  of  system  he  found  every~ 
where  that  he  forgot  to  ask  himself  whether  a  pros- 
perous and  powerful  nation  is  not  bound  to  have 
qualities  a  shrewd  enemy  will  take  care  not  to  despise. 
Germany  had  made  up  its  mind  that  England  was 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  25 

decadent,  and  like  Herr  Erdmann  shook  its  fist  and 
refused  discussion.  Only  time  could  show  whether 
Germany  was  right. 

"Your  parents  ought  to  have  educated  the  chil- 
dren in  Germany,"  Lothar  said  suddenly. 

"That  was  so  like  him,"  thought  Brenda,  "to  tell 
her  for  the  second  time  what  her  parents  ought  to  have 
done  with  their  children  and  to  be  quite  sure  that  his 
opinion  was  the  wise  one.  She  was  glad  to  see  their 
chauffeur  approaching  to  say  that  the  car  was  ready; 
a  good  half-hour  sooner  than  he  had  promised 
it. 

The  rest  of  the  day  was  leaden.  Uncle  Wilhelm 
made  himself  peculiarly  disagreeable  at  lunch  because 
the  food  was  not  to  his  liking.  He  ate  a  great  deal, 
but  said  repeatedly  that  it  would  disagree  with  him, 
and  he  described  the  ways  in  which  it  would  disagree 
with  such  detail  that  Brenda  felt  uncomfortable. 

"Your  daughter  is  blushing  because  I  talk  of  my 
stomach,"  he  said  to  his  sister  peevishly.  "That 
is  English  hypocrisy.  She  has  a  stomach  herself,  I 
suppose." 

"But  a  blush  is  very  becoming,"  said  Lothar, 
fixing  his  monocle  in  his  right  eye  and  turning  to  his 
cousin. 

His  father  gave  a  grunt  and  ordered  coffee  which, 
when  it  came,  he  said  was  not  fit  for  pigs. 

"I  am  glad  we  are  going  back  to-morrow,"  he  said 
a  little  later  to  his  sister  in  Kew  Gardens.  "I  would 
not  answer  for  Lothar  if  he  stayed  here  any  longer. 
He  has  always  been  easily  impressed." 

"It  takes  two  to  make  a  marriage,"  said  Mrs. 
Muller. 

"Not  at  all.  A  girl  of  nineteen  marries  the  man 
who  sets  his  mind  on  her.  What  does  such  a  young 
goose  know?" 

"Well  ...  we  need  not  meet  trouble  half  way," 
said  Mrs.  Muller,  who  was  finding  it  more  and  more 


26  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

difficult  to  enjoy  her  brother's  society  as  much  as 
her  regard  for  family  ties  told  her  she  should. 

Meanwhile  the  young  people  got  over  the  ground 
more  quickly  than  the  old  ones,  and  soon  found  them- 
selves in  a  quiet  part  of  the  gardens  where  there  was 
shade  and  an  inviting  seat.  They  had  walked  through 
most  of  the  glass-houses  and  Lothar,  who  was  not  a 
gardener,  said  he  had  seen  all  he  wanted  to  see. 

"Kew  is  delightful,  but  very  tiring,"  said  Brenda. 

Lothar  assented  vaguely  and  sat  down  beside  his 
cousin.  She  attracted  him  strongly,  although  he 
disapproved  of  her  ideas  and  ways.  But  in  his  opinion 
any  girl  of  nineteen  was  as  malleable  as  putty  and  he 
felt  sure  that  if  he  married  her  he  would  be  able  to 
shape  her  to  his  mind.  After  all,  her  blood,  like  his 
own,  was  pure  German,  and  in  the  ultimate  qualities 
of  brain  and  character  it  is  blood  that  tells.  Her 
manner  and  speech  were  English  and  so  was  her 
appearance,  but  her  appearance  pleased  him.  He 
would  not  wish  that  altered.  When  he  thought  of 
the  wives  and  sisters  of  his  brother  officers  he  had  to 
admit  that  none  of  them  could  compare  with  Brenda. 
Certainly  most  of  them  were  very  poor. 

"Do  you  choose  your  own  clothes?"  he  asked 
after  one  of  those  long  silences  that  Brenda  dreaded 
because  they  seemed  too  solemn  to  lead  to  anything 
but  a  declaration. 

"Oh!  Well,  mother  and  I  choose  them  together," 
said  Brenda.  "But  I  have  an  allowance  now  and 
my  own  bank  account." 

"How  much  does  your  father  give  you?" 

"He  gives  me  a  hundred  a  year,"  said  Brenda 
after  a  moment's  hesitation  that  would  have  made 
most  men  feel  embarrassed.  But  such  delicate  marks 
of  resentment  were  lost  on  Lothar. 

"A  hundred  a  year  for  a  girl's  clothes!  He  must 
be  a  rich  man." 

"I  get  presents  that  help  it  out.    Jem  has  brought 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  27 

me  two  lovely  evening  gowns  from  Paris,  and  some 
furs.  He  really  is  extravagant,  but  then  he  spends 
nothing  much  and  makes  a  great  deal." 

"I  suppose  a  hundred  a  year  for  clothes  is  not 
necessary  to  your  happiness,"  said  Lothar.  "Perhaps 
my  sister  Elsa  spends  as  much,  but  her  husband  can 
afford  it.  I  doubt  whether  Mina  gets  twenty,  and  she 
always  looks  correct  and  pleasing." 

"How  clever  of  her!  I  have  not  decided  what 
is  necessary  to  my  happiness  yet.  I  haven't  thought 
much  about  it." 

There  was  one  thought  in  her  mind  about  it  that 
she  would  not  put  into  words  in  case  it  sounded  prig- 
gish. She  looked  along  the  years  with  the  ardent  hope 
and  eagerness  of  youth,  not  for  happiness,  but  for  some 
chance  of  service.  There  was  so  much  to  do  in  the 
world  and  she  had  not  found  out  yet  what  she  could 
do  best. 

"I  can  tell  you  one  thing  that  is  necessary  to  every 
woman's  happiness,"  said  Lothar.  "If  you  win  that, 
the  rest  follows." 

She  did  not  respond  as  he  expected.  She  neither 
blushed  nor  waited  shyly  for  him  to  go  on;  and  she 
looked  impatient  rather  than  enraptured. 

"I  want  to  do  a  bit  of  the  world's  work,"  she  said. 

"There  is  only  one  bit  a  woman  can  do,  but  it's 
highly  important." 

"There  is  no  end  to  the  work  woman  can  do.  Every 
day  new  avenues  are  opened,  new  interests  are  born." 

"Every  day  boys  and  girls  are  born,"  said  Lothar 
bluntly.  "That  is  the  beginning  and  the  end  for  a 
woman.  All  the  rest  is  nonsense.  The  world  belongs 
to  men." 

In  his  mouth  such  an  outlook  sounded  dreary  and 
Brenda  turned  from  it  with  aversion.  She  knew 
just  as  much  and  as  little  about  the  facts  of  life  as 
other  carefully  bred  girls  of  her  age,  and  what  she  had 
inevitably  seen  of  her  sister's  wedded  bliss  for  years 


28  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

past  had  given  her  a  distaste  for  marriage.  Poor 
Thekla  had  been  more  or  less  ill  and  incapacitated 
ever  since  she  returned  from  her  honeymoon;  she  had 
given  up  music  and  she  did  more  sewing  than  reading. 
She  adored  her  husband  and  children  and  was  as 
happy  as  a  bird.  But  in  Brenda's  jejune  opinion 
the  disabilities  of  such  an  existence  outweighed  its 
gains.  At  nineteen  she  wanted  to  spend  herself  on 
mankind  and  not  on  a  husband  and  children. 

"I  think  we  ought  to  go  back  to  the  others,"  she 
said,  getting  up,  and  her  cousin  saw  that  he  had 
blundered.  But  he  did  not  understand  how,  so  he 
blundered  again. 

"Ach  was!"  he  cried.  "You  English  are  always 
shocked.  One  may  not  say  that  children  are  born 
in  the  world  then!  What  a  country!  In  Germany 
we  are  natural  and  honest." 

"How  glad  you  will  be  to  get  back  there,"  she  said. 
"Of  course  I  shall  be  glad.     What  do  you  mean?" 
"Well!     I  mean  that  a  German  must  be  so  uncom- 
fortable  in   any   country   but   his   own,   since   other 
countries  are  so  inferior." 

"You  ought  to  be  as  good  a  German  as  I  am.  Your 
parents  are  German." 

"But  their  children  are  English." 
"I  blame  your  parents  very  much  for  that,"  said 
Lothar. 

"It  would  be  better  manners  not  to  tell  me  so," 
answered  Brenda.  She  thought  that  would  check 
him,  but  he  hardly  seemed  to  notice  what  she  said. 
"There  is  one  way  in  which  you  could  recover  your 
nationality  at  once,"  he  went  on.  "I  will  tell  you 
how." 

Some  girls  would  have  refused  to  see  his  meaning 
until  he  had  expressed  it  still  more  plainly,  but  Brenda 
wanted  to  stave  off  a  definite  proposal.  She  had 
not  made  up  her  mind  to  accept  him,  and  the  thought 
of  denying  him  outright  filled  her  with  actual  terror. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  29 

He  was  so  big  and  determined  and  self  confident  that 
she  could  imagine  herself  saying  "Yes"  when  she 
wished  to  say  "Nay";  which  in  theory  was  absurd. 
But  theories  are  apt  to  fail  you  in  moments  of  emer- 
gency and  Brenda  knew  that  her  mother's  presence 
would  be  a  greater  support  to  her  than  her  own  inward 
conviction  that  she  could  do  as  she  chose.  He  would 
batter  down  her  defenses  if  she  stayed  here  much 
longer,  twist  something  she  said  his  own  way,  kiss  her 
possibly  and  declare  themselves  betrothed. 

"We  really  must  go  back,"  she  said.  "I  know 
mother  is  tired.  We  said  we  would  leave  at  four." 

"You  do  not  wish  to  listen  to  me?" 

"We  should  not  agree." 

Whether  he  would  have  said  more  Brenda  never 
knew,  for  as  she  spoke  her  mother  and  Uncle  Wilhelm 
appeared.  There  was  no  further  chance  of  intimate 
conversation  just  then,  and  she  determined  not  to 
give  Lothar  another  opportunity  if  she  could  help  it. 
She  had  heard  that  a  proposal  of  marriage  was  rather 
agreeable  and  thrilling,  but  she  did  not  think  this 
one  would  have  been.  An  irrelevant  foolish  corner 
of  her  mind  produced  a  memory  of  a  big  alligator 
at  the  Zoo  that  snapped  is  jaws  when  the  keeper 
stirred  it  up  with  a  stick.  She  felt  sure  that 
Lothar's  mind  was  not  pursuing  fanciful  images. 
He  looked  thunderously  out  of  humor  and  his  father 
noticed  it. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  he  asked  tactfully.  "You 
seem  upset.  Has  that  tough  steak  given  you  indiges- 
tion or  is  it  the  hot  sun?  I  had  no  idea  that  the  sun 
could  be  so  hot  in  England." 

"Nothing  is  the  matter  and  nothing  has  upset 
me,"  said  Lothar  with  emphasis.  "I  am  not  easily 
upset.  A  man  must  be  strong  or  he  is  not  a  man  at 
all." 

"My  dear  child,  what  had  happened?"  said  Mrs. 
fuller,  going  into  Brenda's  rogm  when  the  girl 


30  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

dressing  for  dinner.  "I  can  stand  one  bear,  but  two 
.  .  .  snarling  at  each  other  all  the  way  home.  .  .  ." 

"Nothing  happened,"  said  Brenda.  "He  said  he 
would  tell  me  how  I  might  become  a  German,  and  I 
said  I  was  English.  That  seemed  to  annoy  him. 
Then  you  came  .  .  .  thanks  be!" 

"I'm  glad  nothing  has  happened,"  said  Mrs  Miiller. 
"I  want  to  keep  you  at  home  a  little  longer,  and  if 
you  do  leave  us  I  want  you  to  go  where  you  are  wel- 
come. My  brother  disapproves  of  marriage  between 
cousins,  and  so  do  I." 

"I  thought  he  looked  more  like  green  rhubarb  than 
usual,"  said  Brenda.  "It  would  not  attract  me  to 
have  him  for  a  father-in-law." 

Mrs.  Miiller  tried  to  show  disapproval  but  could  not 
manage  it  and  went  away  smiling  to  herself.  She 
felt  greatly  relieved.  At  dinner  the  presence  of  Mr. 
Miiller  and  Jem  did  something,  but  not  much,  to  lighten 
an  atmosphere  that  had  become  strained.  The  two 
guests  were  plainly  at  odds  with  the  universe  and  con- 
trived to  find  offense  in  every  topic.  Uncle  Wilhelm 
asked  Jem  why  he  never  came  to  Berlin  to  visit  his 
mother's  family,  and  when  Jem  answered  civilly  that 
he  hoped  to  do  so  some  day  the  old  gentleman  said 
he  did  not  like  to  be  made  fun  of  by  the  younger  gen- 
eration and  that  he  was  sure  Jem  did  not  mean  what 
he  said. 

"It  is  twenty  years  since  any  of  you  have  been  to 
Berlin,"  he  said.  "That  does  not  show  much  family 
affection." 

"We  are  always  very  busy,"  began  Mrs.  Miiller, 
mistakenly. 

"Busy!"  roared  Herr  Erdmann.  "How  can  you 
be  busy?  Every  one  in  England  is  idle.  The  men 
work  four  days  from  ten  till  five,  and  then  they  take 
the  week-end  for  golf  and  tennis.  The  women  do 
nothing  at  all.  I  have  seen  it  in  your  house.  I  have 
been  here  a  fortnight  and  I  have  not  once  found  you 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  31 

or  Brenda  usefully  employed.  That  is  not  the  way 
my  daughters  have  been  brought  up." 

"Brenda  and  I  were  in  Heidelberg  this  spring," 
said  Mr.  Miiller,  hoping  to  effect  a  diversion. 

"Heidelberg  is  nix!  If  you  want  to  know  modern 
Germany  you  must  come  to  Berlin.  We  have  every- 
thing finer  and  better  and  larger  than  in  London  or 
Paris.  We  have  architecture,  statuary,  museums, 
villas,  drama,  music,  all  in  the  highest  taste." 

"Any  harbors  like  Portsmouth?"  said  Jem, 
who  happened  to  know  a  good  deal  of  geography 
and  could  have  drawn  a  map  of  the  German  Empire 
with  every  little  principality  in  the  right  place  and  the 
right  size  and  shape. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  shouted  the  old  man,  while 
his  son  shot  a  swift  suspicious  glance  at  Jem  and  then 
scowled  at  his  plate.  "Take  an  atlas  and  find  Berlin 
if  you  can.  You  are  not  taught  geography  in  your 
schools,  I  know.  You  learn  nothing  at  all.  A  German 
navvy  is  better  educated  than  an  English  gentle- 
man." 

"But,  Wilhelm,  how  many  English  gentlemen  do 
you  know?"  said  Mrs.  Miiller,  who  seemed  to  be  the 
only  person  at  all  inclined  to  wrestle  with  her  brother. 

"Quite  as  many  as  I  wish,"  said  Herr  Erdmann, 
and  changed  the  subject  by  refusing  bread-sauce  with 
his  partridge  and  observing  that  such  a  mixture  was 
only  fit  for  an  infant  or  a  poultice. 

"The  proper  thing  to  eat  with  partridge  is  Sauer- 
kraut" he  declared. 

"I  like  bread-sauce,"  said  Brenda,  taking  some. 

"Your  palate  is  on  a  level  with  your  brother's 
geographical  knowledge,  both  beneath  criticism.  I 
speak  plainly,  and  I  see  by  the  face  you  are  making 
that  you  do  not  agree  with  me.  When  my  daughters 
made  faces,  I  boxed  their  ears." 

"Don't  be  so  excited,  papa,"  admonished  Lothar. 
"Brenda  only  said  she  liked  bread-sauce." 


32  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"Ach  was!"  said  the  terrible  old  man  and  helped 
himself  largely  to  chip  potatoes. 

"Why  did  you  say  that  about  Portsmouth?" 
Brenda  asked  Jem  later  in  the  evening. 

"Why  did  he  nose  around  there?"  asked  her  brother. 
"What  is  he  doing  in  England?" 

"I  thought  he  came  to  see  us." 

"Ach  was!"  said  Jem. 


IV 

TWO  years  came  and  went  without  bringing  any 
great  external  change  to  Brenda's  life.  She  still 
lived  with  her  parents  in  St.  John's  Wood,  she 
Viad  not  married,  she  had  not  even  fallen  in  love.  Some- 
times she  thought  rather  disconsolately  that  she  must 
be  one  of  those  celibate  natures  she  had  read  about  in 
some  modern  novels  and  that  she  would  never  be 
moved  by  the  passion  that  makes  the  world  go  round. 
Sometimes  she  thought  there  must  be  something 
radically  wrong  with  her  and  that  possibly  she  was  of 
a  warped  and  petty  nature,  for  as  a  matter  of  fact  she 
enjoyed  life  without  love  enormously.  In  a  thousand 
ways  she  enjoyed  it.  The  seasons  came,  each  bringing 
its  own  pleasures,  the  garden  was  more  and  more 
alluring  as  she  learned  to  work  in  it,  the  blackbirds 
and  thrushes  sang  in  spring,  the  roses  flowered  in 
summer,  in  the  autumn  she  journeyed  to  enchanting 
places,  all  through  the  winter  she  went  out  and  about 
in  London  as  she  felt  inclined.  She  had  friends, 
money,  music,  a  delightful  home  and  the  reflection  in 
her  mirror  of  a  face  and  figure  that  grew  in  charm. 

Her  contemplative,  rather  serious  nature  would  not 
have  been  satisfied  with  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  if  she 
could  have  found  work  to  do,  but  so  far  she  had  not. 
Philanthropy  ought  to  have  attracted  her,  she  sup- 
posed, but  after  a  few  experiments  she  knew  that  she 
had  no  aptitude  for  it.  Perhaps  she  met  the  wrong 
philanthropists:  hard,  self -advertising  people  who 
used  charity  as  a  ladder;  or  fussy  frumpish  ones  who 

33 


34  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

looked  askance  at  Brenda's  pretty  clothes.  Perhaps 
the  clothes  were  frivolous  and  perhaps  her  life  was  self- 
ish, but  every  hour  of  it  was  full.  She  read  a  great 
deal,  worked  steadily  at  music,  did  little  things  in  the 
house  and  was  the  beloved  companion  of  her  father 
and  mother  and  Jem.  They  did  not  think  her  selfish. 
They  adored  her  and  indulged  her,  forestalling  her 
wishes,  getting  daily  pleasure  from  her  youth  and 
beauty.  Jem  had  not  married  yet  and  was  her  best 
friend.  Her  other  friend  was  Violet  Lovel,  and  she 
was  coming  from  Cornwall  with  her  brother  Andrew 
to  stay  with  the  Miillers  for  Brenda's  birthday  party. 

Violet  was  a  perfect  darling.  Brenda  vouched  for 
it,  and  vouched  for  it  in  Jem's  hearing ;  for  though  no 
girl  in  the  whole  world  could  by  any  manner  of  means 
be  good  enough  for  Jem,  he  would  probably  marry 
some  day,  and  it  would  be  a  tragedy  if  he  married  any 
one  less  of  a  darling  than  Violet.  Of  course  if  he  never 
married  and  Brenda  never  married  they  would  both 
lead  happy  quiet  lives  together,  getting  old  without 
perceiving  it  and  contented  with  a  single  blessedness 
that  seemed  to  Brenda  to  give  them  all  they  wanted 
here  below.  She  expressed  these  views  to  her  mother 
a  day  or  two  before  her  birthday,  although  she  knew 
that  her  mother  would  not  agree  with  them. 

"It  is  too  soon  to  make  plans  for  the  future," 
said  Mrs.  Muller.  "You  are  twenty-one  and  Jem  is 
twenty-eight.  Your  lives  are  not  shaped  yet." 

Brenda  thought  that  it  was  not  too  soon  and  said 
so.  She  did  not  lead  a  cloistered  life,  she  argued. 
She  saw  a  great  many  people  all  the  year  round  in 
London  and  abroad.  She  saw  more  men  than  most 
girls  because  a  great  many  young  Germans  spending 
a  year  or  two  in  England  brought  an  introduction  to 
Mr.  Muller  or  were  presented  by  friends,  and  were 
hospitably  received  by  him.  On  several  occasions 
r)he  had  caused  a  Teuton  heart  to  flutter,  but  she  had 
never  once  been  able  to  respond.  She  had  not  exactly 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  35 

liked  Lothar,  but  he  had  made  a  more  forcible  impres- 
sion on  her  than  any  of  his  countrymen.  The  typical 
wealthy  young  German  from  Berlin  and  Hamburg 
did  not  attract  her.  He  was  extremely  well  informed 
and  self-assertive,  unfriendly  towards  England,  both 
gallant  and  clumsy  in  his  manner,  sometimes  inclined 
to  be  quarrelsome  and,  compared  with  Jem,  for  in- 
stance, uncivilized. 

"We  are  the  most  cultured  nation  in  the  world," 
one  of  them  said  one  day,  and  exploded  in  childish 
wrath  because  Brenda  laughed. 

"But  how  can  I  help  laughing?"  she  exclaimed, 
and  for  the  first  time  since  she  had  left  school  nearly 
giggled. 

"Why  should  you  laugh?     What  I  say  is  true." 

"It  may  be,"  conceded  Brenda.  "But  if  it  was  I 
don't  believe  you'd  say  so." 

"Why  should  I  not  say  what  every  child  with 
us  knows?  Why  should  we  be  hypocrites  because 
you  are?" 

He  evidently  thought  his  questions  unanswerable 
since  Brenda,  still  bubbling  with  laughter,  made  no 
attempt  to  answer  them;  and  he  there  and  then 
proved  to  her  that  in  war  and  peace,  in  art  and  science, 
in  trade  and  agriculture  the  Germans  licked  creation. 
He  ended  where  the  others  ended  by  saying  that  he 
offended  no  canons  of  modesty  by  divulging  these 
truths,  since  after  all  she  herself  was  a  German. 

"I  don't  feel  like  one,"  she  said,  and  thought  of  him 
the  day  before  her  birthday  when  Violet  Lovel  arrived 
with  Andrew  her  brother.  They  were  the  kind  of 
people  her  heart  went  out  to,  she  said  to  herself. 
Their  voices,  their  ways,  their  jokes,  their  silences 
were  all  what  she  could  interpret  and  enjoy.  She 
had  not  met  Andrew  Lovel  before,  and  as  he  entered 
the  room  she  saw  that  unlike  Violet  he  was  plain. 
They  were  both  dark  but  his  build  was  heavier  and 
his  manner  less  vivacious.  They  both  had  agreeable 


36  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

educated  voices  that  gave  Brenda  peculiar  pleasure 
and  they  both  seemed  to  think  that  the  week  they 
were  to  spend  with  the  Miillers  promised  unparalleled 
chances  of  enjoyment. 

"We've  not  been  out  of  Cornwall  since  last  summer," 
said  Violet.  "We're  covered  with  blue  mold." 

"I  don't  see  it,"  said  Brenda. 

"I've  rubbed  some  off  already,  just  driving  here 
from  Paddington  in  a  taxi." 

"We  nearly  collided  with  a  motor-bus,"  said 
Andrew.  "That  woke  us  up  a  bit." 

"It  was  heavenly,"  said  Violet 

Mrs.  Muller  who  was  pouring  out  tea  looked  up  in 
surprise,  for  though  she  was  a  woman  of  great  merit 
she  had  a  literal  mind. 

"If  you  lived  where  we  do  you'd  be  so  glad  to  see 
a  motor-bus  that  you  wouldn't  mind  if  it  knocked 
you  down,"  explained  Violet. 

"But  I  suppose  it  is  very  beautiful  at  Treva,"  said 
Brenda. 

"Yes ;  it  is,"  said  Andrew,  and  his  sister  knew  from 
his  way  that  he  was  pleased  and  attracted.  She  was 
glad  because  she  wanted  a  gay,  harmonious  week, 
but  it  never  occurred  to  her  to  hatch  matrimonial 
plans  for  her  brother  and  her  friend.  She  had  often 
stayed  with  the  Miillers,  and  she  liked  the  whole 
family,  but  she  regarded  them  as  foreigners  with 
some  foreign  ways  and  ideas.  Brenda,  for  instance, 
knew  German  nearly  as  well  as  English  and  read  deep, 
difficult  German  poetry  that  Violet  could  not  follow 
even  when  it  was  translated.  Then  Brenda  had  a 
quite  genuine  distaste  for  some  kinds  of  music  that 
Violet  enjoyed,  and  it  was  impossible  to  say  before- 
hand which  kind  would  rouse  it.  She  liked  rag-times 
and  coon  songs,  although  she  herself  played  chiefly 
Beethoven  and  Bach.  But  Violet  had  seen  her  jarred 
and  depressed  by  those  sweet  lyrics,  "Come,  listen  to 
the  Nightingale,"  and  "Kiss  me  when  I  dream  of 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  37 

thee,"  and  even  by  anglicized  renderings  of  Schumann 
and  Brahms. 

"But  they  are  German  songs,"  Violet  had  argued. 

"Not  when  Miss  Bulstock  sings  them,"  Brenda 
had  said  with  a  little  shudder.  She  was  fastidious 
certainly,  for  the  last  time  they  met  they  had  heard  a 
Fraulein  Koch  sing  them  and  then  Brenda  had  shud- 
dered, too. 

"Miss  Bulstock  bellowed  and  this  one  pants,"  she 
said.  "Can't  you  hear  and  see?" 

Violet  could  not,  and  thought  such  trifles  did  not 
matter  much.  Music  was  an  agreeable  pastime  when 
it  was  lively  or  sugary,  but  the  kinds  that  Brenda 
liked  were  too  stiff.  She  rather  hoped  that  they  were 
not  going  to  be  taken  to  the  Queen's  Hall  this  time 
because  when  you  only  had  one  week  in  London  you 
wanted  all  the  gayety  and  color  you  could  get.  Violet 
loved  a  revue  or  a  musical  comedy.  She  was  a  charm- 
ing small  brunette  with  twinkling  eyes  and  coaxing 
ways.  She  looked  smart  although  she  spent  next  to 
nothing  on  her  clothes:  and  she  was  undoubtedly 
civilized  although  she  was  undoubtedly  ignorant: 
a  puzzling  British  blend  she  had  helped  Brenda  to 
understand.  Two  years  ago,  when  Brenda  had  seen 
so  much  of  her  cousin  Lothar,  she  had  sometimes 
compared  his  encyclopedic  information  with  Violet's 
all-round  want  of  it,  and  wondered  why  knowledge 
did  so  little  for  the  outer  and  the  inner  man.  She 
had  not  solved  the  problem  yet. 

Andrew  Lovel  was  living  at  home  and  helping  an 
unmarried  landowning  uncle  to  look  after  his  prop- 
erty. He  had  been  to  Rugby  and  to  Cambridge, 
but  as  he  grew  up  he  did  not  develop  any  striking 
qualities  that  might  have  helped  him  to  choose  a  career. 
At  school  he  had  been  one  of  those  solid  trustworthy 
boys  who  never  distinguish  themselves  either  at  work 
or  play,  but  who  are  a  useful  element  in  a  school, 
steadying  it  and  in  a  dilemma  choosing  the  right  way 


38  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

either  by  instinct  or  tradition.  At  Cambridge  he  had 
a  happy  uneventful  history,  and  although  he  was 
always  short  of  money  left  no  debts.  To  his  father, 
the  Rector  of  Treva,  he  was  a  disappointment.  The 
Levels  were  badly  off,  but  some  day,  if  Major  Lovel 
never  married,  Andrew  would  inherit  a  good  deal  of 
land  and  money  from  him.  But  any  day  he  might 
marry,  and  then  Andrew  would  be  without  a  sixpence. 
This  uncertainty  about  his  future  had  made  Andrew 
wish  to  go  out  into  the  world  and  fend  for  himself, 
but  the  trouble  was  that  he  had  no  desire  for  any 
career  that  his  father  considered  suitable.  He  wanted 
to  fend  for  himself  in  one  of  the  colonies,  or  even,  at  a 
pinch,  to  go  into  business  in  London.  The  rector  did 
not  like  the  idea  of  the  colonies.  They  were  a  long 
way  off.  The  men  out  there  drank  and  gambled, 
and  Andrew  was  his  only  son.  He  did  not  like  the 
idea  of  business  either,  because  you  could  not  succeed 
in  business  unless  you  tried  to  get  the  better  of  other 
people,  and  the  rector  hoped  Andrew  would  never  do 
that.  Besides,  business  required  capital,  and  he  had 
none  to  give  his  son.  He  had  hoped  that  Andrew 
would  do  brilliantly  at  school  and  college  and  enter 
high  into  the  Civil  Service.  Fathers  do  mark  out 
these  easy  lines  for  sons,  without  reflecting  that  they 
themselves  have  done  nothing  much  and  have  probably 
not  bequeathed  remarkable  brains  to  their  offspring. 
However,  the  conversations  at  the  Rectory  concerning 
Andrew's  career  had  all  been  conducted  with  good 
humor.  The  father  and  son  were  the  best  of  friends, 
and  when  Major  Lovel  of  Treva  said  that  he  would 
like  his  nephew  to  act  as  his  agent  and  work  on  the 
estate  with  him,  the  prospect  was  so  pleasing  to  Andrew 
that  he  accepted  it.  His  uncle  paid  him  a  small 
salary,  he  lived  at  home,  he  was  interested  in  his  work 
and  the  only  blot  on  his  happiness  was  the  occasional 
reflection  that  he  was  not  taking  a  man's  share  in  the 
rough  and  tumble  of  the  world.  He  was  not  making 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  39 

money,  but  as  he  had  all  he  wanted,  that  did  not 
matter  much  at  present.  He  could  not  marry,  but 
that  did  not  seem  to  matter  either,  since  he  did  not 
fall  in  love. 

This  was  the  first  time  he  had  been  invited  to  the 
Miillers',  and  he  had  been  invited  as  a  dancing  man  to 
Brenda's  birthday  party.  On  the  first  evening  the 
four  young  people  went  to  the  theater  by  themselves. 
Brenda  talked  to  Andrew  between  the  acts  and  Violet 
talkd  to  Jem.  After  the  theater  Jem  took  them 
to  supper  at  the  Carlton  and  Brenda  knew  by  the 
end  of  the  evening  that  Jem  liked  Andrew  quite 
warmly;  but  she  did  not  see  the  beginnings  of  a  love 
affair  between  her  brother  and  Violet.  The  two  men 
were  making  plans  for  a  day's  fishing  together  on 
Saturday,  and  out  of  that  grew  another  plan  for  which 
the  young  people  from  Cornwall  had  the  authority 
of  their  elders.  It  was  hoped  at  Treva,  they  said,  that 
Violet  and  Jem  would  pay  them  a  visit  in  June  when 
the  days  were  long  and  the  sea  warm  enough  for 
bathing. 

As  Brenda  brushed  her  hair  that  night  she  tried  to 
discover  why  some  people  made  you  feel  that  all  was 
well  with  the  world,  while  others  made  you  feel  that 
all  was  wrong.  It  had  been  a  happy  and  harmonious 
evening  even  when  little  things  went  contrary  as 
little  tilings  will.  They  had  been  five  minutes  late 
for  the  first  act  and  that  was  usually  enough  to  spoil 
Brenda's  pleasure  a  good  deal ;  there  had  been  a  sharp 
shower  of  rain  as  they  came  out  of  the  theater,  and  at 
the  Carlton  they  had  had  to  wait  for  a  table.  But  when 
you  are  with  people  who  regard  whatever  happens 
as  part  of  the  fun  you  can  bear  with  such  slings  and 
arrows  as  these. 

"I  do  like  good-humored  people,"  Brenda  said 
to  her  mother  next  day;  and  by  that  time  she  had 
promised  to  go  into  supper  with  Andrew  Lovel  and  to 
give  him  two  one-steps  and  an  extra. 


40  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

The  dancing  was  to  take  place  in  a  pavilion  on  the 
lawn,  the  best  band  in  London  was  to  play,  refresh- 
ments and  supper  were  to  be  served  in  the  dining- 
room  at  little  tables,  and  in  other  rooms  elderly  people 
could  talk  or  play  cards  as  they  felt  inclined.  For 
it  was  an  entertainment  to  which  old  and  young  had 
been  invited.  Brenda  had  wished  it  so  and  it  was 
her  party  in  honor  of  her  twenty-first  birthday. 
All  day  long  presents  were  arriving  for  her,  some 
quite  small  but  some  such  as  only  rich  people  can 
give. 

"It's  like  a  wedding,  only  nicer,"  said  Violet. 

"Why  is  it  nicer?"  asked  Mrs.  Muller. 

"You  get  such  dull  things  at  weddings.  Knives 
and  forks  and  spoons!  Brenda  has  had  more  jewelry 
given  her  to-day  than  some  women  get  in  a  lifetime. 
She  is  lucky!" 

"Yes,  I  am  lucky,"  said  Brenda.  The  young 
people  were  sitting  with  Mrs.  Muller  in  the  library 
and  Brenda's  presents  were  all  on  view  there. 

"I  suppose  when  you  get  married  you  don't  think 
the  spoons  and  forks  are  dull,"  said  Andrew.  "You 
can't  set  up  house  without  them;  I'm  rather  fond  of 
nice  silver." 

Brenda  colored  and  turned  away,  furious  because 
the  unbidden  color  had  come.  Yesterday  at  this 
hour  she  had  not  known  Andrew  Lovel  and  to-day 
when  he  spoke  of  people  getting  married  she  was  fool 
enough  to  blush.  A  sheer  accident  of  course  without 
import  or  consequence,  but  yet  tiresome.  However, 
if  he  saw  he  made  no  sign.  His  manners  were  as 
charming  as  his  voice  and  smile.  She  wondered 
why  Violet  had  said  that  her  brother  was  plain,  and 
still  more  why  on  his  arrival  yesterday  she  had  thought 
so  herself. 

He  danced  well,  too.  All  through  the  evening 
Brenda  danced  happily,  but  with  a  touch  of  extra 
ple.a,s,ur§  w^en.  the  turn  came  to  dance  with 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  41 

He  looked  pleased,  too,  when  he  claimed  her;  and  in 
various  small  ways  he  helped  her  to  make  the  evening 
a  success.  She  decided  that  he  was  an  early  Victorian 
man  who  encompassed  a  woman  with  sweet  observ- 
ances just  because  she  was  a  woman;  and  as  riddles 
of  this  kind  always  engaged  her  fancy  she  tried  to 
discover  why  Lothar's  attitude  to  women  roused 
her  anger  while  Andrew's  did  not.  She  supposed 
that  one  difference  between  the  two  men  was  in  their 
view  of  service,  for  Lothar  expected  to  receive  it  and 
Andrew  to  give  it. 

The  people  who  came  to  the  dance  were  of  various 
nationalities,  and  in  some  ways  their  ways  were  not 
English  ways.  Mr.  Miiller's  firm  traded  over  half 
the  world,  and  men  came  to  him  with  credentials  from 
many  countries.  Andrew  and  Violet  had  never  been 
in  such  a  cosmopolitan  gathering,  but  Brenda  was 
used  to  it.  She  spoke  French  as  well  as  German  and 
she  could  get  on  in  Italian. 

"Where  did  you  learn  all  these  languages?"  asked 
Andrew.  "Never  at  school." 

"No;  not  at  school,"  said  Brenda.  "I  had 
French  and  German  governesses.  Languages  are 
useful.  Besides  every  fresh  one  you  know  gives 
you  a  literature." 

"You  could  put  all  I  know  about  literature  into  a 
percussion  cap,"  said  Andrew. 

Following  on  this  horrible  confession,  Jem's  esti- 
mate of  Andrew  Lovel  came  as  a  surprise. 

"I  never  met  a  man  whose  head  was  screwed  on 
tighter,"  Jem  said.  "He  knows  a  lot." 

"What  does  he  know  ?"  asked  Brenda. 

"Everything  that's  any  good." 

"He  doesn't  seem  to  me  nearly  as  well  informed 
as  Lothar." 

"That's  just  what  Lothar  was  .  .  .  well  informed. 
He  always  reminded  me  of  a  half-cooked  pudding; 
full  of  good  stuff  and  the  result  beastly." 


42  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"Jem!    Didn't  you  like  Lothar?" 

"I  should  think  not.    Did  you?" 

"Sometimes  I  did.    Sometimes  I  didn't." 

"I  didn't  see  anything  in  him  to  like,"  said  Jem. 

Brenda  did  not  argue  the  point.  She  had  not  for- 
gotten Lothar,  but  she  felt  pretty  sure  that  he  would 
never  come  into  her  life  again.  He  had  written  a 
polite  letter  to  his  aunt  two  years  ago,  and  since  then 
they  had  only  heard  of  him  when  Mrs.  Miiller  heard 
from  her  brother  at  Christmas.  He  was  still  un- 
married and  had  lately  been  promoted  to  the  rank  of 
Captain.  That  was  about  all  Brenda  knew  of  the  man 
who  for  a  short  time  had  been  so  much  attracted  by 
her;  and  she  sometimes  wondered  whether  it  was 
usual  for  men  to  be  on  the  brink  of  marriage  one  day 
and  ready  to  forget  you  cheerfully  the  next.  If  so, 
she  thought  their  hearts  must  be  of  a  peculiar  texture, 
easily  inflammable  and  easily  calmed.  She  had  not 
known  till  now  that  Jem  positively  disliked  his  German 
cousin. 

"I  wish  you  were  going  to  stay  longer,"  she  said  to 
Andrew  Lovel,  the  night  before  Violet  and  he  were  to 
leave. 

"So  do  I,"  said  Andrew.  "But  in  June  you  and 
Jem  are  coming  to  us." 

"I  have  never  been  in  the  country  in  June,"  said 
Brenda. 

It  gave  Andrew  a  little  shock  of  surprise  to  hear  her 
say  so.  They  were  in  Brenda's  sitting-room,  waiting 
for  the  car  which  was  to  take  the  four  young  people 
to  the  theater.  Both  the  room  and  the  girl  were 
exquisitely  fresh  and  dainty  and  Andrew  knew  that 
the  flowers  in  the  room,  the  chintzes,  the  pretty  carpet, 
the  books,  Brenda's  gown  and  the  becoming  long  fur 
coat  waiting  for  her  to  slip  on,  all  meant  money. 
She  was  a  lovely  sheltered  child  of  fortune  who  could 
never  lead  a  life  of  comparative  poverty.  As  he 
looked  at  her  and  her  room  he  thought  of  the  plain, 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  43 

rather  shabby  rooms  at  home  and  of  the  narrow 
means  that  made  their  shabbiness  inevitable. 

"I'm  wrong,"  said  Brenda,  speaking  again  before 
he  did.  "Two  years  ago  I  was  in  Heidelberg  in 
June." 

"I've  never  been  out  of  England,"  said  Andrew. 

"Don't  you  want  to  ?" 

"Rather.    But  I'm  tied  to  Treva." 

"Are  you?"  said  Brenda.  It  seemed  a  narrow 
outlook  and  almost  a  pity  that  Andrew  sat  down  to  it. 

"My  work's  there,"  he  said. 

"I  want  to  see  the  world.  Everything  unknown 
tempts  me." 

"I've  often  wished  I  had  brothers." 

"So  that  you  could  have  gone  out  into  the  world?" 
"Yes." 

"That  is  what  my  father  did.  He  went  to  China 
and  made  his  way." 

"That  is  what  a  man  should  do.  Then  he  can 
marry  and  give  his  wife  all  she  wants." 

"I  knew  you  were  an  early  Victorian  man,"  cried 
Brenda,  her  lips  merry  with  laughter. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Your  ideas.  You  want  to  give  everything,  not  to 
take." 

"But  I  was  only  thinking  of  things  you  buy  with 
money." 

"I  know;  and  they  are  just  what  do  not  matter: 
and  yet  you  make  so  much  of  them." 

"Not  for  myself,"  began  Andrew,  and  then  stopped 
short  because  the  others  came  into  the  room. 


BRENDA  knew  very  little  about  the  Levels. 
The  brother  and  sister  were  candid  but  not  com- 
municative, and  they  imparted  bare  facts  with- 
out the  vital  glosses.  They  were  not  well  off,  their 
father  was  a  clergyman  and  Andrew  acted  as  agent 
to  an  unmarried  uncle  who  owned  land.  The  uncle's 
property  was  called  Treva,  and  the  Rectory  was  close 
by.  Both  were  near  the  sea,  but  the  Rectory  had  the 
finest  view.  This  was  about  all  Brenda  knew  of  her 
friend's  home  when  she  got  out  at  Porthlew  one  after- 
noon in  June.  She  had  never  paid  a  visit  by  herself 
before,  and  she  had  no  experience  of  life  in  English 
country  houses.  The  idea  of  staying  in  a  rectory  was 
rather  alarming,  but  at  any  rate  it  was  not  to  be  ex- 
pected that  Violet  and  her  friends  would  behave  like 
the  country-house  people  in  up-to-date  novels  who  loll 
about  on  divans,  smoke  cigarettes,  drink  whiskey  and 
soda,  and  talk  in  epigrams.  That,  Brenda  thought, 
would  have  been  too  depressing  to  bear;  and  she  had 
made  up  her  mind  that  if  she  found  herself  in  a  hall 
full  of  disagreeable  women  in  tea-gowns  she  would 
run  away.  However,  she  could  not  picture  Violet  or 
Andrew  amongst  this  particular  breed  of  smart  people, 
and  when  they  met  at  her  journey's  end  their  friendly 
welcome  set  her  at  ease  and  she  started  in  high  spirits 
for  a  six-mile  drive  into  the  unknown. 

It  was  market  day  in  Porthlew,  and  it  seemed  to 
Brenda,  as  they  ascended  the  main  street,  that  every 
man  and  woman  and  child  were  known  to  her  friends. 

44 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  45 

The  people  stood  about  in  leisurely  groups,  the  country 
'buses  were  loaded  with  cases  and  packages,  a  band 
was  playing  and  the  sun  was  shining.  Brenda  looked 
about  her  interested  and  amused,  while  Andrew  steered 
his  pony  skillfully  through  the  crowd  and  Violet 
counted  up  the  parcels  she  had  still  to  collect  from 
various  places  in  town. 

"Have  you  no  shops  near  you?"  said  Brenda. 

"These  are  the  nearest,"  said  Violet. 

"But  these  are  six  miles  away." 

"Yes." 

"Then  what  do  you  do  if  you  want  things  sud- 
denly?" 

"Fetch  them  or  do  without." 

Brenda  meditated  on  the  difficulties  of  housekeeping 
under  such  circumstances  until  they  left  the  town  and 
began  to  drive  along  an  interminable  country  road, 
hilly  and  dusty  and  at  first  rather  dull.  The  dust  was 
mostly  raised  by  large  Jersey  cars  loaded  with  trippers, 
and  there  was  less  when  the  pony  cart  turned  into  a 
secondary  road  hedged  on  either  side  by  ragged  furze 
bushes  out  of  flower.  When  Brenda  could  see  over 
she  saw  bare  low  hills  and  cutivated  fields  and  gray 
farm  buildings.  When  the  sun  hid  behind  a  bank  of 
clouds  the  whole  landscape  turned  leaden  and  depress- 
ing. But  the  air  was  singularly  clear,  and  directly 
they  reached  the  cross  roads  at  Treva  Cross  Brenda 
saw  the  sea.  By  this  time  they  were  miles  away  from 
the  environs  of  Porthlew  and  from  its  traffic.  The 
lane  in  which  they  drove  was  full  of  foxgloves  and 
from  the  fields  there  came  the  scent  of  clover  and  new- 
mown  hay.  The  only  trees  to  be  seen  were  those  sur- 
rounding Treva  and  hiding  the  house  from  view;  and 
when  the  pony  left  the  road  it  picked  its  way  along  a 
rough  farm  track  that  brought  them  with  unexpected 
suddenness  to  the  Rectory. 

The  house  had  been  built  about  a  hundred  years  ago, 
and  was  a  plain  solid  one  in  the  late  Georgian  style. 


46  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Its  front  faced  the  sea  and  was  near  enough  to  be 
drenched  with  the  spray  of  winter  storms.  Behind 
the  house  there  was  a  sheltered  garden,  but  between 
the  house  and  the  sea  the  moor  stretched  to  the  rocks 
as  nature  left  it,  strewn  with  granite  boulders  and  car- 
peted with  heather  and  furze.  To-night  the  sea  was 
calm,  a  young  moon  rode  the  cloudless  sky  and  fishing 
boats  drifted  slowly  and  smoothly  westwards.  On 
the  horizon  it  was  clear  enough  to  see  the  smoke  of 
liners  homeward  and  outward  bound. 

By  the  time  that  Brenda  had  seen  the  Rector  and 
Mrs.  Lovel,  and  had  been  taken  upstairs  to  the  big 
plainly  furnished  guest-chamber  appointed  to  her, 
she  knew  that  she  had  come  to  a  paradise.  The  land- 
scape enfolded  her  and  so  did  the  house  and  the  people. 
The  note  of  austerity  indoors  and  out  was  in  tune  with 
her  own  inner  nature,  inclined  to  duty  and  reflection. 
She  did  not  mind  plain  food  and  worn  carpets  when 
the  windows  were  magic  casements  and  the  inmates 
of  the  house  as  warmly  kind  as  her  hosts.  Andrew 
took  after  his  mother,  Brenda  had  discovered.  Mrs. 
Lovel,  like  her  son,  was  plain,  and  Violet's  cameo 
features  were  inherited  from  her  father,  whose  silvery 
hair  and  chiseled  profile  ought  to  have  procured  him 
a  bisphoric.  He  had  not  as  simple  a  nature  as  his  wife 
and  son,  Brenda  thought,  after  half  an  hour's  acquaint- 
ance, but  he  had  a  charming  voice  that  he  had  be- 
queathed to  both  his  children. 

Violet  came  into  the  room  as  Brenda  was  unpacking 
her  clothes,  sat  down  on  a  window  seat  and  began  to 
chatter. 

"You  needn't  think  it's  quiet  here,  though  it  is  the 
depths  of  the  country,"  she  began.  "When  it  blows 
you'll  hear  big  seas  booming  all  night,  and  when  it's 
still  you  hear  a  murmur.  There's  a  willow-warbler 
close  by;  and  owls  and  night-jars  come,  too.  They 
keep  you  awake  at  night,  and  in  the  morning  the  rooks 
caw  and  the  gulls  scream.  I  hope  you'll  like  it." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  47 

"I'm  sure  I  shall,"  said  Brenda,  kneeling  beside 
Violet  on  the  window  seat  and  staring  at  the  sea. 

"I  wonder  you  can  bear  to  come  away,"  she  said 
soon. 

"This  house  is  only  ours  for  my  father's  lifetime," 
said  Violet.  "If  he  died,  my  mother  wouldn't  have  a 
roof  to  her  head  or  a  penny  in  her  pocket.  I've  only 
known  it  just  lately,  and  I  want  to  go  out  and  earn  my 
living." 

"But  you  have  your  brother." 

"He  doesn't  earn  enough  to  keep  himself.  Besides, 
a  man  wants  to  marry  as  a  rule." 

"My  father  has  kept  his  mother  and  grandmother 
since  he  was  quite  a  boy.  He  did  not  marry  till  he 
could  afford  it." 

"That's  what  Andrew  said  when  I  spoke  to  him  the 
other  day.  He  can  never  marry,  but  he'll  look  after 
me.  He  doesn't  want  me  to  be  a  governess." 

"I  can  understand  that,"  said  Brenda. 

The  two  girls  were  intimate,  but  with  reservations. 
They  had  never  talked  to  each  other  much  of  family 
affairs,  but  that  was  because  girls  of  their  age  are  not 
usually  told  much  by  their  elders.  Brenda  had  not 
known  till  now  that  Violet's  future  was  uncertain,  and 
if  she  did  not  marry  might  be  impoverished.  Some- 
times this  spring  she  had  thought  that  Jem  cared  for 
her  friend,  but  as  he  had  not  spoken  she  supposed  that 
she  had  been  mistaken.  Still  there  were  other  men  in 
the  world  and  Violet  was  distractingly  pretty.  Brenda 
herself  derived  great  pleasure  from  watching  her,  but 
could  not  imagine  her  battling  for  her  bread. 

"I  wish  Jem  could  have  come  with  me,"  she  said 
when  she  had  gone  back  to  her  unpacking.  "He  will 
have  a  bare  week  here  as  it  is.  He  gets  so  little  holi- 
day." 

"If  only  the  weather  lasts,"  said  Violet. 
It  was  impossible  to  judge  from  her  manner  whether 
Jem's  arrival  mattered  to  her  or  not;  and  it  had  been 


48  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

impossible  to  judge  from  Andrew's  manner  whether  he 
felt  as  peculiarly  glad  to  see  Brenda  as  she  had  been  to 
see  him  again.  She  had  noted  what  Violet  said  about 
it  being  impossible  for  him  to  marry,  but  thought  she 
had  heard  of  cases  where  this  had  been  said  and  not 
fulfilled.  She  decided  that  evening,  however,  that  his 
manner  to  his  mother  was  just  as  attentive  and  devoted 
as  it  was  to  her.  Brenda's  own  family  atmosphere 
was  harmonious,  and  she  found  the  same  pleasant 
traditions  of  courtesy  and  good-fellowship  prevailing 
here.  She  enjoyed  her  first  evening  at  the  Rectory 
in  a  calm,  rather  disappointing  way,  and  it  was  not  till 
she  leaned  out  of  her  bedroom  window  to  listen  to  the 
waves  that  the  stir  in  her  heart  found  what  it  wanted. 
The  stars,  the  fresh  salt  air  and  the  rhythmic  splash  of 
a  peaceful  sea  soothed  her  and  promised  her  all  that 
nature  can  promise  happy  youth,  to-morrow  and  to- 
morrow. 

She  did  not  quite  know  what  had  disappointed  her 
throughout  the  evening,  for  as  far  as  she  knew  she 
did  not  love  Andrew  Lovel  yet  or  desire  him  to  love 
her.  He  was  a  dear,  but  poor,  plain  and  without 
experience  or  what  she  considered  education.  He  was 
young  for  his  age  and  not  as  much  master  of  his  fate 
as  a  man  should  be.  She  wanted  love  to  come  to  her 
in  splendor  and  terror  so  that  it  was  stronger  than 
her  and  irresistible.  Nevertheless,  her  thoughts  ran  on 
Andrew  and  she  began  to  wonder  what  the  unmarried 
uncle  was  like  who  seemed  to  hold  the  reins  of  his 
nephew's  life  in  his  hands;  and  whether  a  young  man 
ought  to  run  in  harness  just  because  it  seemed  con- 
venient to  do  so.  Next  day  she  found  that  they  were 
to  have  luncheon  at  Treva  and  spend  the  afternoon 
there. 

"You  have  never  told  me  much  about  your  uncle?" 
she  said  to  Violet.  "Are  you  fond  of  him  ?" 

"He's  all  right,"  said  Violet,  and  that  did  not  tell 
Brenda  much.  But  when  she  sat  at  lunch  next  to 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  49 

Major  Level  she  understood  that  he  might  be  a  man 
who  raised  neither  like  nor  dislike.  He  was  dry  and 
silent,  rather  alarmingly  well  informed  where  Brenda 
was  ignorant,  and  without  any  knowledge  of  some 
things  that  she  thought  the  salt  of  life.  His  manner 
to  her  was  arid,  but  polite ;  and  during  lunch  he  talked 
mostly  to  Andrew  about  mowing-machines.  He  was 
quite  unlike  his  brother,  the  Rector,  and  Brenda 
thought  that  he  probably  had  better  brains,  the  kind 
of  brains  that  enjoys  mowing-machines  and  despises 
small  talk.  He  was  a  largely  made  man  with  a  steady 
eye  and  a  clean-shaven  face.  Once  or  twice  Brenda 
thought  that  he  felt  impatient  with  his  brother.  His 
silence  showed  it  and  the  dryness  of  his  voice  when  he 
began  again  about  mowing-machines.  The  Rector's 
voice  was  musical  and  his  accent  fastidiously  articulate. 
Brenda  could  imagine  his  speech  mimicked  with  success 
and  she  thought  his  arguments  exposed  him  to  derision, 
too.  He  wanted  every  sword  in  England  turned  into  a 
plowshare,  and  feared  that  the  new  naval  programme 
might  annoy  the  Germans. 

"Why  do  we  not  try  to  conciliate  them?"  he  said. 
"They  are  the  most  intellectual  and  formidable  people 
in  Europe." 

"What  do  you  think  about  it?"  said  Major  Lovel, 
bluntly  and  suddenly  to  Brenda.  "You're  German, 
aren't  you?" 

"No,  I'm  not,"  said  Brenda  with  decision.  "I  was 
born  in  England." 

"I  was  born  in  India,  but  I'm  English." 

"You'll  never  conciliate  them,"  said  Brenda,  waiving 
her  personal  claims  for  the  moment.  "The  more  ships 
you  build,  the  better." 

"Hear,  hear,"  said  the  Major,  and  returned  to  his 
mowing-machines.  Mrs.  Lovel  did  not  talk  much 
at  all,  and  Violet  tried  in  vain  to  end  the 
debate  on  machines  by  interpolations  of  a  calculated 
levity. 


50  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"Are  we  going  to  have  tea  on  the  rocks,  Uncle 
Adam?"  she  asked. 

"I  thought  you  were  staying  on  here,"  he  said. 

"Yes;  but  we  can  have  tea  on  the  rocks." 

"I  don't  think  so.    I  have  tea  in  the  library." 

His  tone  was  final,  and  in  Brenda' s  ears  rather  bear- 
ish, but  no  one  seemed  ruffled.  As  he  spoke  he  got 
up  and  opened  the  door  into  the  library.  From  there 
Mrs.  Lovel  and  the  two  girls  went  into  the  drawing- 
room  in  which  there  were  folding-doors  leading  to  a 
billiard-room.  All  the  rooms  were  large  and  furnished 
by  successive  generations.  They  seemed  to  be  full  of 
treasures  that  Brenda  longed  to  look  at,  and  perhaps 
Mrs.  Lovel  guessed  what  was  in  the  girl's  mind,  for 
when  they  had  had  coffee  she  showed  her  some  of  the 
things  on  view  in  this  room  and  the  next.  The  tapes- 
try on  the  walls  was  Jacobean  and  some  of  the  furniture 
was  older  still.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  rare  old  china, 
too,  and  miniatures,  frail  silver,  and  in  the  billiard- 
room  more  family  portraits.  Some  Brenda  had  looked 
at  with  interest  in  the  dining-room,  trying  to  see  Major 
Lovel  in  a  Georgian  wig  and  a  fine  gold-laced  coat 
such  as  the  Lovel  opposite  her  had  worn  when  he  sat 
for  his  portrait.  A  little  later  in  the  afternoon,  when 
they  all  went  into  the  garden,  her  impressions  grew  of 
an  unbroken,  unchanging  order  handing  its  traditions 
and  its  property  from  generation  to  generation.  The 
great  fir  trees  flanking  the  lawn  were  only  a  hundred 
years  old,  but  the  lawn  itself  had  been  a  bowling  green 
when  the  Armada  sacked  and  burned  the  village  of 
Guavas  on  the  coast  east  of  Treva,  and  in  1356  a  Lovel 
of  Treva  had  led  a  company  of  archers  at  Poictiers. 

"What  a  beautiful  place  it  is,"  said  Brenda,  as 
she  listened  to  these  stories  told  by  one  and  another. 
"I  did  not  know  there  was  anything  in  England  so 
beautiful." 

"But  what  do  I  know  of  England?"  she  thought 
the  moment  she  had  spoken.  "London  and  Cromer 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  51 

and  Scarborough.  This  is  England.  'In  a  great 
pool  a  swan's  nest.'  Here  you  feel  it." 

They  had  left  the  garden  proper  now  and  were  walk- 
ing down  a  narrow  path  that  led  through  a  wood 
planted  beneath  the  taller  trees  with  hydrangeas. 
Beyond  the  wood  they  came  to  an  apple  orchard  and 
then  to  the  sheltered  places  beneath  the  cliff  where 
Major  Lovel  grew  fields  of  daffodils;  and  then  to  the 
waste  lands  at  the  edge  of  the  sea.  Bracken,  furze 
and  primroses  grew  amongst  the  short  grass  here  and 
enormous  boulders  lay  inland  beyond  the  mightiest 
waves.  The  beach  itself  was  all  rock  and  cliff,  with 
delicious  clear  pools  in  which  Brenda  found  sea  anem- 
ones and  little  crabs.  The  air  was  salt  on  her  lips, 
the  sun  shone  fiercely  on  her  and  the  only  sign  of  man 
outside  their  own  party  she  saw  on  the  horizon  in  the 
unfurled  sails  of  a  ship. 

"I  should  like  to  build  a  hut  on  a  shore  like  this  and 
live  in  it  for  ever,"  she  cried.  They  were  threading 
their  way  over  some  rocks  in  single  file  now  and  Brenda 
thought  that  Violet  was  close  behind.  But  when  she 
turned  her  head  she  saw  that  Andrew  had  slipped  into 
his  sister's  place  and  that  they  were  some  way  ahead 
of  the  rest. 

"I  wish  there  was  the  smallest  chance  of  your  living 
here  for  ever,"  said  Andrew. 

He  spoke  less  cheerfully  than  usual,  for  his  outlook 
had  never  seemed  so  circumscribed  and  doubtful. 
Major  Lovel  paid  him  a  hundred  a  year,  and  a  man 
like  Andrew  does  not  ask  a  girl  like  Brenda  to  marry 
him  on  a  hundred  a  year.  Of  any  improvement  in  his 
prospects  he  saw  no  chance  for  years  to  come,  when 
Brenda  would  have  married  some  one  else  and  nothing 
would  matter.  If  his  uncle  remained  a  bachelor,  he 
would  own  Treva  some  day.  But  Major  Lovel  was 
only  fifty.  The  last  owner  of  Treva  had  married  at 
fifty-two,  begotten  Adam  and  the  Rector  and  lived  to 
be  ninety.  At  that  rate  Andrew  would  be  sixty-eight 


52  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

when  according  to  circumstances  he  did  or  did  not 
inherit. 

This  train  of  thought  was  unusually  depressing. 
Andrew  never  dwelt  on  his  prospects  because  they 
were  uncertain  and  remote  and  also  because  he  hated 
the  thought  of  waiting  for  dead  men's  shoes.  He 
wished  more  than  ever  to-day  that  he  had  gone  out 
into  the  world  to  seek  his  fortune.  But  the  work  he 
was  doing  had  offered  itself  and  his  parents  both  did 
their  best  to  make  him  take  it. 

"We  are  glad  to  keep  you  at  home,  my  boy,"  the 
Rector  had  said  genially,  "there  is  no  place  like 
home" :  and  at  the  time  Andrew  had  agreed  with  him. 
Now  the  hour  had  come  when  he  wanted  ardently  to 
make  a  home  of  his  own  and  could  not. 

"I  don't  earn  as  much  as  a  clerk,"  he  said  from  the 
depths  of  his  thoughts;  and  Brenda  understood  that 
this  remark  followed  on  his  last  one  and  was  fraught 
with  meaning.  She  did  not  answer  it  because  she 
could  not  think  of  anything  to  say;  but  as  they  stood 
together  on  the  higher  reach  of  the  cliff  and  looked  out 
to  sea  she  asked  him  if  he  liked  his  work. 

"Yes;  I  like  it,"  he  said,  "but.it  leads  nowhere." 

"You  must  talk  to  Jem,"  said  Brenda.  "He  may 
have  ideas." 

"I  have  ideas  myself.  Uncle  Adam  has  land  in 
New  Zealand,  and  I  should  like  to  go  out  there  and  run 
it  for  him.  I  believe  I  could  make  it  pay.  But  I 
haven't  persuaded  him  yet  that  it  would  be  worth 
while.  Of  course  it  takes  money  and  time  to  start 
anything  now." 

"But  would  you  be  better  off  out  there  ?" 

"Much  better  off.  I  should  be  a  working  partner 
in  a  paying  business  ...  I  hope." 

"But  as  far  as  your  friends  are  concerned  you  might 
as  well  be  in  heaven,"  said  Brenda. 

It  was  a  disjointed  argument,  interrupted  by  the 
arrival  of  the  others  and  not  resumed.  During  the 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  53 

next  few  days  Andrew  was  busy  out  of  doors  and 
hardly  seen  by  his  family  till  dinner-time.  It  turned 
hot  suddenly,  so  hot  that  after  dinner  the  three  young 
people  liked  to  stroll  down  to  the  shore  and  sit  about 
on  the  rocks.  Then  Jem  arrived  and  there  were  four 
young  people  to  find  the  long  warm  evenings  beguiling. 

"I  think  you  ought  to  accompany  them,  my  dear," 
said  the  Rector  anxiously. 

"They've  only  gone  to  see  the  moonlight  on  the 
rocks,"  said  Mrs.  Lovel. 

"They  went  to  see  it  yesterday  and  will  probably 
go  again  to-morrow." 

"You  cannot  expect  young  people  to  stay  indoors 
in  weather  like  this ;  and  I'm  too  rheumatic  to  scramble 
about  the  rocks  with  them.  Besides,  I  should  feel  in 
their  way." 

"But  that  is  my  point,  my  dear.  I  think  perhaps 
you  ought  to  be  in  their  way." 

"Why?" 

"For  the  sake  of  appearances.  The  maids  must 
see  them  go  out  every  evening  if  no  one  else  does." 

Mrs.  Lovel  knitted  half  a  row  before  she  spoke 
again,  and  then  she  only  said  that  she  liked  Jem  and 
Brenda  Miiller. 

"So  do  I,"  said  the  Rector.  "But  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  approve  of  them  as  friends  for  our  children." 

"Why  not?" 

"They  seem  to  be  wealthy  people." 

"I  like  wealthy  people." 

"But  their  idea  of  expenditure  must  be  so  different 
from  our  own." 

"No  doubt,"  said  Mrs.  Lovel  dryly. 

"I  should  not  wish  either  of  our  children  to  marry 
for  money.  I  disapprove  of  it." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Mrs.  Lovel. 

"It  leads  to  great  unhappiness." 

"So  does  poverty." 

The  Rector's  delicate  face  looked  troubled.    His  wife 


54  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

was  very  dear  to  him,  but  her  occasional  bluntness  of 
speech  was  not.  For  the  moment  it  seemed  to  turn 
life  into  a  pilgrimage  made  with  a  small  hard  pea  in 
his  shoe. 

"I  have  a  great  horror  of  being  thought  mercenary," 
he  said. 

Mrs.  Lovel  went  on  knitting. 

"I  am  sure,  my  dear,  that  you  agree  with  me,"  her 
husband  persisted:  so  she  had  to  answer  him. 

"We  are  not  mercenary,"  she  said.  "We  never 
have  been  and  we  never  shall  be.  We  could  both 
'have  married  for  money  and  did  not.  We  have  been 
very  happy  together,  but  I'm  anxious  about  the  chil- 
dren. I  want  Violet  to  marry.  I  don't  care  what 
people  think." 


VI 

DURING  the  next  week  the  happiest  person  in 
the  Rectory  was  Mrs.  Lovel,  because  she  saw 
what  was  coming  and  rejoiced  greatly.     Jem 
and  Violet  were  like  other  undeclared  lovers,  moody 
and  anxious  one  hour,  exuberantly  happy  the  next. 

Himmelhoch  jauchzend 

Zum  Tode  betriibt 

Glucklich  allein  ist  die  Seele  die  liebt. 

Brenda  sang  Clarchen's  song  one  evening  after  dinner 
and  she  had  scarcely  finished  when  her  brother  and 
her  friend  slipped  out  of  the  room,  their  eyes  raptur- 
ous. Brenda's  eyes  followed  them  wistfully,  and  she 
waited  a  little  before  she  began  another  song.  Night 
after  night  the  four  young  people  had  watched  the 
moonlight  playing  on  the  sea,  but  this  night  Andrew 
had  sat  down  to  a  game  of  chess  with  his  father  and 
was  absorbed  in  it.  At  any  rate  he  did  not  look  up 
from  the  board  when  the  other  two  departed  and  he 
did  not  propose  to  follow  them. 

Brenda  sang  a  song  by  Grieg  next  and  then  shut  the 
piano.  The  room  was  a  large  one  and  she  could  talk 
to  Mrs.  Lovel  in  one  corner  of  it  without  disturbing 
the  chess-players  in  another.  The  two  ladies  sat  near 
an  open  window  through  which  Brenda  could  see  the 
flower  garden  at  the  back  of  the  house.  She  had 
some  embroidery  in  her  hands,  but  she  hardly  set  a 
stitch.  Her  eyes  looked  at  the  garden  and  she  listened 
to  the  tu-whit-tu-whoo  of  owls  calling  and  answering 

55 


56  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

each  other  while  she  talked  to  Mrs.  Lovel  about  those 
small  affairs  of  the  daily  round  that  occupy  the  tongue 
even  when  the  thoughts  are  elsewhere.  Mrs.  Level's 
heart  went  out  to  the  girl  as  an  older  woman's  will  to 
youth  that  sees  a  rough  furrow  in  front  of  it.  There 
was  no  doubt  in  the  mother's  mind  that  Brenda  and 
her  son  were  strongly  drawn  to  each  other  and  that 
Andrew  was  holding  back  because  he  was  poor.  That 
was  why  he  made  excuses  to  stay  out  all  day  and  now 
sat  over  his  game  of  chess,  while  Brenda's  eyes  lost 
their  laughter  and  stared  at  the  garden  without  seeing 
it.  Mrs.  Lovel  felt  sorry  for  the  girl,  but  not  desper- 
ately sorry.  Nobody  could  foresee  yet  what  would 
happen  if  the  two  families  became  united  by  one 
marriage.  A  second  might  follow,  and  Mrs.  Lovel 
thought  that  an  interval  between  the  two  was  desir- 
able even  at  the  price  of  a  little  heartache  and  uncer- 
tainty. The  idea  of  both  brother  and  sister  going  home 
engaged  to  her  children  offended  her  sense  of  pro- 
priety, since  she  knew  that  Andrew  had  no  worldly 
goods  to  offer,  while  even  the  expenses  of  a  daughter's 
wedding  would  be  difficult  for  the  Rector  to  meet. 

Meanwhile  the  picture  of  the  room  and  of  the  moon- 
lit garden  fixed  themselves  in  Brenda's  memory  so 
that  long  afterwards  when  she  thought  of  Treva  she 
thought  of  the  night  when  Andrew  played  chess  with 
his  father  while  she  talked  in  undertones  to  Mrs.  Lovel. 

Although  it  was  a  warm  June  evening  a  small  wood 
fire  was  burning  and  scented  the  air,  fragrant  also  with 
the  scent  of  flowers.  The  Rector's  silvery  head  and 
chiseled  features  pleased  Brenda  to-night  as  the 
center  of  a  scene  in  which  the  dominant  notes  were 
stability  and  peace.  Andrew's  pleasant  voice,  as 
refined  as  his  father's  and  without  any  clerical  twang, 
pulled  at  her  heartstrings  until  suddenly  and  inex- 
plicably she  felt  stifled  by  this  guarded  room  which 
she  had  entered  and  from  which  she  must  soon  go  as  a 
Stranger,  She  got  up,  startling  Mrs.  Lovel,  whose 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  57 

thoughts  had  wandered  from  the  storms  of  youth  and 
their  manifestations. 

"I'm  going  out  to  find  the  others,"  she  said,  and  was 
away  before  any  one  answered  her. 

She  did  not  go  far.  She  wanted  to  be  by  herself 
in  the  moonlight,  enfolded  by  its  beauty  and  sadness. 
All  her  life  she  had  learned  that  man  is  born  to  trouble, 
but  she  herself  had  hardly  known  trouble.  Her  heart 
had  never  ached  and  felt  sore  till  now.  Why  did 
Andrew  change  and  chill  towards  her  as  he  had  done 
lately?  Did  he  love  her  or  not?  and  did  she  love 
him?  Out  here  beneath  the  stars  they  might  have 
come  to  a  conclusion:  but  he  stayed  dryly  indoors, 
moving  his  chessmen  deliberately,  intent  on  his  game, 
allowing  her  to  walk  here  alone.  That  showed  he  did 
not  care  as  she  did. 

Jem  and  Violet  were  happier.  They  had  found 
themselves  out  here  in  surroundings  of  peace  and 
beauty  that  would  remain  with  them  as  part  of  love's 
heritage  for  ever.  She  heard  it  in  their  voices,  she  saw 
it  in  their  eyes  the  moment  she  met  them. 

"Where  is  Andrew?"  said  Jem. 

"He  is  playing  chess,"  said  Brenda. 

"How  dull  of  him!    Violet,  shall  we  tell  her?" 

"You  needn't  tell  me,"   said  Brenda.     "I  know." 

"How  could  you  possibly  know?"  cried  Jem,  but 
no  one  answered  him. 

"Men  are  odd,"  said  Brenda  when  she  had  kissed 
Violet  warmly.  "He  has  known  you  for  years.  He 
saw  you  for  a  whole  week  this  spring.  What  made  him 
speak  just  to-night?  You  must  have  known  long  ago 
that  you  wanted  to  marry  Violet,  didn't  you,  Jem?" 

"But  I  didn't  know  that  Violet  would  marry  me," 
said  Jem. 

"Are  you  going  to  tell  people  at  once?" 

"I'm  going  to  tell  mother,"  said  Violet.  She  looked 
beautiful  to-night,  Brenda  perceived,  when  they  went 
into  the  drawing-room  again,  beautiful  and  glowing 


58  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

as  if  the  flame  of  happiness  lighted  by  Jem  shone  in 
her  eyes  and  smile  and  even  in  the  poise  of  her  body, 
carrying  her  news  like  victory,  with  rejoicings.  She 
went  straight  across  the  room  to  where  her  mother  sat 
placidly  sewing. 

"Mother!"  she  said,  and  at  her  voice  with  its  new 
vibration  Mrs.  Lovel  looked  up. 

"I'm  engaged  to  Jem,"  she  went  on,  and  her  declara- 
tion must  have  reached  the  chess-players,  for  Andrew, 
in  the  act  of  moving  his  Queen,  put  her  down  and 
pushed  back  his  chair.  Jem,  hearing  what  Violet  said, 
went  across  the  room  to  the  Rector. 

"I've  asked  Violet  to  marry  me,"  he  said,  and 
there  was  a  moment  of  suspense  and  general  con- 
gratulation. 

"I  hope  your  father  and  mother  will  be  pleased," 
said  the  Rector  as  if  he  doubted  it;  and  next  day  he 
called  Jem  into  his  study  and  explained  that  he  could 
not  give  his  daughter  a  dowry  or  even  make  her  an 
allowance. 

"I  might  let  her  have  twenty  pounds  a  year  for  her 
clothes  at  present,"  he  suggested,  looking  rather  wor- 
ried. "But  if  I  were  to  die  even  that  .  .  ." 

Jem  explained  very  gravely  and  politely  that  he  had 
plenty  of  money  himself  and  would  some  day  inherit 
a  great  deal  from  his  father.  He  did  not  ask  for  a 
penny  with  his  wife. 

"But  what  will  your  father  and  mother  say  ?"  asked 
the  Rector  again. 

"They  will  be  delighted,"  said  Jem,  and  to  judge  by 
the  telegram  he  received  in  answer  to  his  news,  they 
were. 

So  was  Uncle  Adam.  He  offered  to  pay  all  the 
expenses  of  Violet's  wedding,  and  when  he  found  that 
she  was  going  back  with  Jem  and  Brenda  to  buy  clothes 
he  gave  her  a  check  for  a  hundred  pounds.  There 
were  no  obstacles,  thought  Brenda,  and  no  criticisms. 
Every  one  concerned  approved  of  the  marriage  and 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  59 

wished  the  young  couple  happiness.  Mrs.  Miiller  did 
not  think  that  a  hundred  pounds  was  enough  to  buy  a 
trousseau,  because  she  had  some  old-fashioned  German 
ideas  that  ran  into  dozens  and  dozens  of  everything 
besides  enough  household  linen  for  children  and  chil- 
dren's children.  But  she  resigned  herself  to  seeing 
her  son  buy  furniture  and  linen  that  a  correct  German 
bride  would  have  brought  as  her  portion  even  if  she 
had  been  in  modest  circumstances.  She  hoped  that 
Violet  would  not  be  as  unthrifty  as  her  parents  must 
have  been,  since  they  had  apparently  saved  nothing 
for  their  daughter's  marriage;  and  she  hoped  that 
Jem,  who  had  been  used  to  his  mother's  housekeeping 
all  his  life,  would  not  be  very  uncomfortable  with  a 
wife  who  knew  even  less  than  Brenda  did  about  cater- 
ing and  cooking.  But  Mrs.  Miiller  kept  these  trifling 
qualms  to  herself  and  took  real  pleasure  in  helping  the 
young  people  to  set  up  their  home.  Jem  took  a  house 
in  Kensington  Square,  and  while  it  was  being  painted 
and  papered  Violet  came  up  to  London  again  to  choose 
furniture.  They  were  to  be  married  at  the  end  of 
July  and  have  a  six  weeks'  holiday  in  Switzerland  and 
at  the  Italian  Lakes. 

"I  didn't  think  any  one  could  be  as  happy  as  I  am," 
Violet  said  one  afternoon.  This  was  about  a  week 
before  her  marriage,  and  she  was  standing  with  Brenda 
at  a  window  in  her  own  drawing-room  waiting  for 
Jem.  The  two  girls  had  been  looking  at  the  new  papers 
and  paint,  taking  measurements  and  deciding  important 
points  about  carpets  and  curtains. 

"You  are  not  sorry  to  give  up  the  country?"  said 
Brenda. 

"Not  a  bit.  I'd  much  rather  live  in  London.  I 
feel  more  alive  here.  Besides  .  .  .  what  does  it 
matter  where  one  lives?  I'd  have  gone  to  Patagonia 
if  Jem  had  wanted  me  to.  Wouldn't  you?  if  you 
knew  any  one  as  nice  as  Jem?" 

"I  suppose  I  should,"  said  Brenda.     She  was  very 


60  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

glad  that  Violet  was  so  happy,  but  as  she  was  human 
she  wished  that  she  could  have  been  happy,  too.  She 
did  not  think  there  was  any  chance  of  it,  and  this 
made  her  feel  sad  when  she  should  have  been  cheerful, 
and  restless,  although  to  the  outside  view  she  had  all 
a  girl  can  desire.  She  half  dreaded  her  brother's 
wedding  because  it  would  bring  her  face  to  face  with 
Andrew  Lovel  again,  and  yet  she  counted  the  hours 
till  she  saw  him.  She  had  made  up  her  mind  that  if 
he  chilled  completely  she  would  pull  herself  together 
and  refuse  to  be  heartbroken.  She  wanted  to  be 
happy,  and  one  of  the  things  on  which  happiness  de- 
pends is  a  whole  heart  and  a  satisfied  one. 

"If  I  wanted  to  marry  a  poor  man,  what  would 
happen?"  she  said  to  her  mother  one  day. 

"There  are  different  kinds  of  poor  men,"  said  Mrs. 
Muller  cautiously. 

"I  know.  In  some  cases  poverty  is  a  reproach,  but 
not  in  others.  I  shall  never  want  to  marry  a  waster. 
I  detest  weak  men." 

"We  are  all  weak — in  places,"  said  Mrs.  Muller. 
"No  one  is  wholly  strong.  In  marriage  you  must 
take  good  and  bad  together." 

"I  don't  see  anything  bad  in  you  and  father." 

"That  is  because  you  love  us.  It  is  the  same  in 
marriage.  Love  makes  people  tolerant." 

"I  don't  want  to  be  tolerant,"  cried  Brenda.  "I 
want  to  marry  some  one  much  better  and  stronger 
than  I  am  myself,  if  I  marry  at  all.  Nothing  matters 
in  a  man  except  strength." 

"What  is  strength  ?"  said  Mrs.  Muller. 

Her  matter-of-fact  mind  sometimes  met  her  daugh- 
ter's more  subtle  one  and  balked  it  in  this  way  by  a 
question  Brenda  could  not  answer;  for  the  girl  did  not 
know  yet  what  kind  of  strength  she  sought  for  in  a 
mate  or  even  whether  she  wanted  it  manifested  in 
spirit  or  in  muscle  or  in  the  romantic  compound  that 
men  of  flesh  and  blood  so  seldom  realize. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  61 

"A  man  should  be  able  to  make  his  way,"  she  said. 
"It  would  not  matter  about  being  poor  if  you  knew 
he  was  working  hard  and  would  get  on." 

"There  are  men  who  work  hard  and  never  get  on," 
said  Mrs.  Miiller. 

"I  suppose  Jack  is  poor,"  said  Brenda,  speaking  of 
her  brother-in-law,  Major  Wilmot.  "But  Thekla  is 
very  happy." 

"Your  father  gave  her  ten  thousand  pounds  when 
she  married,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller. 

"Is  father  a  millionaire  then?" 

"I  cannot  tell  you  what  he  has,  but  I  am  sure  he  is 
not  a  millionaire.  Why  do  you  ask?" 

"I  was  just  wondering.  What  does  it  cost  to  live? 
Do  we  spend  more  than  a  thousand  a  year  here?" 

"Much  more." 

"Some  men  are  absurdly  proud,"  said  Brenda. 
"They  will  not  marry  a  girl  with  money  if  they  have 
none  themselves." 

"Quite  right,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller,  who  gave  a  shrewd 
guess  at  the  girl's  uncertain  state  of  mind.  She  was 
not  a  mercenary  woman  and  she  liked  what  she  had 
seen  of  Andrew  Lovel,  but  she  liked  him  all  the  better 
when  she  was  more  or  less  told  that  he  was  not  the  man 
to  hang  his  hat  in  his  wife's  hall.  For  the  rest  she 
left  developments  to  time  and  chance.  In  these  days 
and  in  this  country  young  people  expect  to  manage 
their  own  affairs. 

The  Miillers  were  to  stay  with  Major  Lovel  at  Treva 
for  Jem's  wedding,  and  they  went  there  the  day  before. 
Brenda  did  not  see  Andrew  until  he  arrived  with  the 
party  from  the  Rectory  in  time  for  dinner,  and  then 
other  guests  were  in  the  room.  He  came  up  to  her  at 
once,  but  was  soon  carried  off  by  his  uncle  to  the  lady 
he  had  to  take  in.  Brenda's  neighbors  at  dinner 
were  an  elderly  colonel  and  a  young  Lovel  who  was  a 
curate  up  country  and  was  going  to  assist  in  the 
service  to-morrow.  He  had  not  heard  Brenda's  name 


62  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

when  he  was  introduced,  and  he  asked  her  if  she 
thought  mixed  marriages  ever  turned  out  well. 

"I  suppose  it  depends  on  the  mixture,"  said  Brenda. 

"If  I  had  not  known  that  the  bridegroom  was  Ger- 
man, I  should  have  taken  him  for  English,"  said  the 
curate,  staring  at  Jem. 

"He  is  English,"  said  Brenda. 

"But  his  parents  are  German.    You  can  see  it." 

"Can  you?" 

"Yes.    I  don't  like  Germans.    Do  you?" 

"I  like  some  very  much." 

"Not  really?" 

"Yes;  really." 

"Perhaps  you  don't  know  many.  I  spent  a  fort- 
night in  Dresden  this  spring." 

"I  was  never  in  Dresden." 

"Ah!"  said  the  curate.  "You  must  be  in  a  coun- 
try to  know  its  people." 

"But  Dresden  is  a  beautiful  city,  isn't  it?" 

"Beautiful!     But  I  didn't  feel  at  home  there." 

"Do  you  speak  German?" 

"Not  a  word." 

"What  was  it  that  you  disliked  so  much?" 

"Well  ...  I  had  quite  a  little  adventure.  They 
ran  me  in  because  they  found  me  taking  photographs ; 
and  they  were  most  rude  and  unpleasant." 

"I  can  imagine  that,"  said  Brenda. 

"I  told  them  I  was  a  clergyman,  and  they  said  that 
only  made  it  worse.  They  detained  me  for  three  days 
and  then  hustled  me  over  the  frontier.  And  they  kept 
my  camera.  When  I  got  home  I  wrote  very  severely 
to  them.  At  any  rate  they  know  my  opinion." 

"I  suppose  in  England  any  one  may  take  a  camera 
anywhere,"  said  Brenda. 

"I  hope  so,"  said  the  curate;  and  then  Brenda  had 
to  turn  to  the  elderly  colonel,  who  asked  her  if  she 
liked  hunting.  When  he  found  that  she  had  never 
been  on  a  horse  he  seemed  to  wonder  what  she  did 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  63 

with  her  life  and  where  she  had  been  raised;  and  in  a 
polite  way  he  turned  his  back  on  her.  So  she  did  not 
enjoy  herself  overmuch,  and  when  the  men  came 
into  the  drawing-room  after  dinner  Andrew  asked  her 
if  she  had  been  bored. 

"Did  I  look  bored?  I  hope  not,"  she  cried,  and 
she  told  him  what  the  curate  had  said  about  mixed 
marriages  and  Germans. 

Andrew  said  his  cousin  was  known  to  be  a  silly  ass, 
but  otherwise  harmless,  and  that  his  experiences  as  a 
suspected  spy  had  given  him  the  thrill  of  his  life.  He 
knew  no  more  of  Germans  than  he  knew  of  Choctaws, 
and  when  he  talked  of  mixed  marriages  he  talked 
through  his  hat. 

"Besides,"  said  Andrew,  "a  man  marries  to  please 
himself,  not  to  please  some  fool  of  a  cousin.  What 
does  it  matter  what  people  say?" 

"It  doesn't  matter,"  agreed  Brenda. 

"Nothing  matters  except  one's  own  conscience." 

"But  you  may  listen  too  much  to  conscience  and 
become  monkish,"  said  Brenda.  "I  don't  believe  in 
that  either.  Generally  what  makes  you  happy  is 
right." 

"Oh!  That's  too  easy,"  cried  Andrew,  but  neither 
of  them  carried  on  the  argument.  They  were  glad 
to  be  near  each  other  and  hardly  to  talk  at  all.  An- 
drew sat  cleverly  with  his  back  to  the  rest  of  the  room, 
so  that  he  could  worship  Brenda  with  his  eyes.  She 
wore  a  gown  he  had  never  seen  before  to-night,  and  he 
thought,  as  he  looked  at  it,  that  no  other  woman  could 
have  chosen  it,  or  worn  it  with  such  charm.  It  was 
a  picturesque  gown,  with  a  groundwork  of  soft  blue 
and  embroideries  of  silver.  It  clung  to  her  with  a 
sheath-like  tightness,  molding  the  lovely  curves  of  her 
figure  and  giving  value  to  the  lights  of  golden  red  in 
her  brown  hair  and  to  her  hazel  eyes.  As  they  talked 
they  watched  an  exodus  from  the  room  of  all  the 
guests,  led  by  the  Rector  and  Mrs.  Lovel. 


64  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"We  are  going  across  to  the  Rectory  to  see  the 
presents,"  some  one  said.  "There  will  be  such  a 
crowd  to-morrow." 

"Shall  we  go,  too?"  said  Andrew. 

Brenda  got  up,  but  said  something  about  a  wrap. 
She  went  upstairs  for  it,  and  waited  a  moment  to  draw 
back  her  curtain  and  look  out  at  the  sea.  There  were 
lights  on  it  and  there  were  stars  in  the  sky,  a  full 
summer  moon,  and  in  full  view  a  rabbit  nibbling  on 
the  lawn.  When  she  got  down  she  found  Andrew- 
waiting  for  her,  and  she  told  him  about  the  rabbit. 
But  it  had  gone  when  they  reached  the  lawn.  She 
wished  they  could  go  down  to  the  shore  as  they  used 
to  when  they  were  here  before,  but  she  would  not 
propose  it,  and  he  went  straight  to  the  Rectory.  Here 
they  became  part  of  the  crowd,  a  merry  talkative 
crowd  giving  its  attention  to  silver  spoons  and  teapots 
and  to  the  bride  and  bridegroom  who  were  going  to 
use  them. 

"Jem  has  had  more  presents  than  I  have,"  an- 
nounced Violet.  "They  are  all  in  London  except  this 
pearl  necklace,  which  his  great-grandmother  sent  him 
for  me.  Isn't  it  sweet,  with  that  little  square  clasp 
that  has  his  great-grandfather's  hair  in  it.  All  Jem's 
German  relations  have  sent  him  presents.  Why  didn't 
they  come  to  the  wedding?  Father  adores  Germans. 
He  says  they  are  so  gentle  and  honest  and  simple. 
Are  your  relations  like  that,  Jem,  or  are  they  the  new 
kind  that  rattle  the  saber  and  say  the  earth  is  theirs  ?" 

"They  are  the  new  kind,"  said  Brenda,  answering 
for  Jem,  who  hesitated. 

"How  amusin',"  said  Violet,  and  turned  to  some 
one  who  was  admiring  an  old  tea-caddy  and  asking  its 
date. 

Brenda  perceived  in  her  present  surroundings,  what 
she  had  perceived  before  amongst  English  people, 
their  feeling  of  impregnable  security,  their  imperturb- 
able good-humor  and  their  blindness  to  a  menace  that 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  65 

ever  since  she  had  known  the  Erdmanns  hung  over 
her  at  times  with  sinister  foreboding. 

"It  wouldn't  be  amusin'  if  Germany  sprang  at  us," 
she  said  to  Andrew;  "it  would  be  horrible.  They 
are  ready  and  we  are  not." 

"Why  should  they  spring  at  us?" 

"I  suppose  they  want  what  we  have  got." 

"Nations  don't  make  war  in  that  way.  They  have 
to  think  of  public  opinion." 

Brenda  did  not  carry  on  the  argument,  because  she 
could  not  convey  her  impression,  derived  largely  from 
her  uncle  and  cousin,  that  Germans  care  precious  little 
for  any  opinion  but  their  own.  You  might  as  well  try 
to  explain  a  prize  fighter  to  a  don  as  Germans  like  the 
Erdmanns  to  English  people  like  the  Rector  of  Treva 
and  his  friends.  Besides,  the  occasion  and  the  hour 
were  unsuitable.  The  world  these  people  lived  in  was 
a  peaceful,  prosperous  one,  a  world  of  dignified  tradi- 
tions, highly  civilized  and  urbane.  She  could  not 
imagine  it  shaken  by  men  like  Uncle  Wilhelm  and 
Lothar. 

"Still,  your  ancestors  fought  and  died  for  their 
country,"  she  said  aloud.  "The  English  are  a  war- 
like race." 

"My  great-grandfather  was  killed  at  Waterloo," 
said  Andrew.  "His  portrait  is  in  the  dining-room  at 
Treva." 

Then,  every  one  who  was  staying  in  Major  Level's 
house  bid  good-night;  and  next  day  in  the  village 
church  there  was  a  country  wedding  with  the  church 
and  churchyard  crowded  in  a  way  that  the  Miillers, 
used  to  London  weddings,  had  not  foreseen.  Indeed, 
the  festivities  seemed  to  them  unending,  for  after  the 
bride  and  bridegroom  and  most  of  the  guests  had 
departed  there  was  a  supper  for  the  parishioners  with 
toasts  and  speeches.  These  were  not  interesting  in 
themselves,  but  they  gave  Brenda  lights  on  the  social 
position  of  a  family  that  has  owned  a  corner  of  Eng- 


66  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

land  for  some  hundreds  of  years.  She  also  observed 
that  in  the  opinion  of  the  villagers  Mr.  Andrew  was 
his  uncle's  heir.  One  of  the  tenants,  floundering  in 
the  mazes  of  a  congratulatory  speech,  hoped  they 
would  soon  be  drinking  his  health  and  dancing  at  his 
wedding. 

"  'Fraid  he'll  be  disappointed,"  said  Andrew  in  a 
low  voice  to  a  man  next  to  him,  and  Brenda,  standing 
just  in  front,  heard  him. 

She  went  back  to  London  regretful  and  depressed. 
If  Andrew  had  not  stolen  her  heart  he  had  touched  it 
and  lived  there  for  some  time  as  the  man  she  could 
have  loved  and  married.  When,  in  the  autumn,  she 
heard  that  he  had  gone  to  New  Zealand,  she  asked 
Violet  if  he  was  likely  to  stay  there  for  good. 

"He  might.     For  his  sake  I  wish  he  would!" 

"Why?" 

"It  gives  him  a  chance.  Over  here  his  life  is  a 
blind  alley." 

"He  liked  his  work." 

"But  it  led  to  nothing.     He  had  no  outlook." 

The  two  young  women  were  sitting  near  the  fire  in 
Violet's  drawing-room.  Rose-colored  curtains  shut 
out  the  November  weather,  half  drizzle,  half  fog.  Tea 
had  just  come  in  and  was  waiting  invitingly  on  two 
low  tables.  On  the  wall  opposite  Brenda  there  was  a 
Cornish  landscape  by  Lamorna  Birch  and  it  reminded 
Brenda  of  summer  and  Treva.  The  picture  had  been 
Uncle  Adam's  present  to  Jem,  and  always  sent  her 
fancy  wandering  westwards. 

"Your  father  and  mother  will  be  lonely,"  she  said. 

"They  have  each  other.  If  I  found  myself  on  a 
star  with  Jem,  I  shouldn't  mind." 

"Beastly  selfish,  isn't  it?"  she  said  after  a  moment's 
silence,  during  which  Brenda  did  not  speak. 

"I  wasn't  thinking  of  that,"  said  Brenda.  "I  was 
wondering  about  marriage.  Must  you  bring  such 
love,  or  does  it  follow?" 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  67 

"It  follows,"  said  Violet  with  decision,  "you  needn't 
be  afraid." 

"But  marriages  are  not  all  happy." 

"So  they  say,  I  know.  I've  not  come  across  many 
unhappy  ones." 

"Violet!"  began  Brenda  rather  hesitatingly. 
"Did  you  ever  care  for  any  one  before  you  met  Jem  ?" 

"Rather!"  said  Violet.  "I  adored  one  of  our 
curates,  a  fair  young  man  with  a  weak  chin  and  large 
eyes." 

"Did  he  adore  you?" 

"He  said  so." 

"What  happened?" 

"Nothing.  We  couldn't  marry,  so  it  just  fizzled 
out — thanks  be!" 

"Why  couldn't  you  marry  ?" 

"No  money." 

"Were  you  very  unhappy?" 

"I  thought  so  at  the  time,  I  suppose.  Then  some 
one  else  came  along.  None  of  them  really  mattered 
though." 

"But  at  the  time  how  do  you  know  who  matters 
and  who  does  not?" 

"There's  Jem!"  cried  Violet,  her  whole  body  alert 
and  her  eyes  shining  as  she  went  to  meet  her  husband, 
whose  voice  in  the  hall  his  sister  could  just  hear.  So 
when  a  man  mattered,  it  was  like  that.  Your  eyes 
were  alight,  your  voice  had  a  ring  in  it,  you  did  not 
even  hear  what  any  one  else  said  and  you  rushed  off 
to  meet  him.  Presently  you  came  back  with  him  and 
you  both  looked  happier  than  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world  could  make  you  if  you  possessed  them  in  loneli- 
ness. But  how  were  you  to  know? 


VII 

IT  was  early  summer,  but  in  Heidelberg  the  heat 
had  been  intense  all  day.  After  breakfast  Brenda 
had  gone  to  market  and  come  back  to  the  hotel  with 
an  armful  of  lilies  of  the  valley  and  lilac  and  a  blue  and 
gray  jar  full  of  wild  strawberries.  The  strawberries 
were  sold  in  a  cabbage  leaf,  so  she  had  bought  the  jar 
to  hold  them  and  paid  three-halfpence  for  it.  She  had 
come  to  Heidelberg  a  week  ago  with  her  father  and 
was  staying  with  him  at  the  Prinz  Carl,  where  blue 
and  gray  jars  that  cost  three-halfpence  each  would 
not  have  appeared  anywhere  except  in  the  back 
kitchens.  But  Brenda  took  hers  upstairs,  past  an 
amused  and  smiling  hall-porter,  emptied  it  of  straw- 
berries, filled  it  with  water,  put  in  the  white  lilac  and 
set  it  on  the  table  in  her  bedroom:  the  table  that 
stood  in  front  of  the  sofa,  covered  with  two  table- 
covers,  one  of  red  chenille  and  one  of  lace. 

That  Germany  was  a  wholly  modern  and  progres- 
sive country,  ahead  of  the  rest  of  the  world  in  every 
respect,  had  of  course  been  dinned  into  Brenda's  ears 
for  years  by  every  German  she  met  and  by  every 
article  appearing  in  English  papers  and  reviews.  So 
it  always  rejoiced  her  greatly  when  she  went  to  Ger- 
many to  find  that  progress  had  not  swept  away  all 
the  characteristic  little  ways  and  customs  that  belonged 
to  her  conception  of  her  father's  country,  a  conception 
in  which  fairy  tales,  piety,  kindliness  and  a  courageous 
poverty  played  leading  parts.  She  always  hoped  the 
whole  nation  was  not  represented  by  the  truculent 

68 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  69 

politics  of  their  leaders,  and  when  she  came  to  Germany 
she  always  found  so  many  contradictory  currents,  so 
much  that  was  new  and  so  much  still  delightfully  old, 
that  her  opinion  of  its  main  tendencies  formed  and 
unformed  itself  every  hour.  She  loved  Heidelberg 
and  the  daily  visits  to  her  grandmamma  and  great- 
grandmamma.  They  still  lived  in  the  old-fashioned 
house  with  the  untidy  garden  behind  it,  and  they  still 
pressed  cakes  and  sweets  on  Brenda  at  odd  times  and 
took  a  deep  interest  in  what  she  wore.  Neither  they 
nor  their  rooms  had  aged  or  altered  since  Brenda  had 
paid  them  a  visit  four  years  ago;  but  they  seemed 
to  think  that  she  was  aging  fast,  and  that  by  this 
time  she  ought  to  be  engaged  or  married.  They  did 
not  hint  at  their  disappointment.  They  spoke  of  it 
broadly  and  hoped  she  was  not  too  difficult  to  please. 
This  time,  too,  they  found  fault  with  the  plain  tweed 
coat  and  skirt  she  wore  every  day  when  she  went  to 
visit  them. 

"We  have  asked  Brenda  what  clothes  she  had 
brought  with  her,  but  we  should  also  like  to  see  them," 
said  grandmamma. 

"White!"  said  great-grandmamma.  "When  I  was 
young  I  wore  white  in  summer.  Brenda  is  not  too  old 
for  it  yet,  although  to  be  sure  I  was  married  and  the 
mother  of  three  at  her  age." 

"When  I  come  to  see  you  to-morrow  I  will  wear 
white,"  said  Brenda,  who  sat  between  the  two  old 
dames  on  an  enormous  Empire  sofa  covered  with 
faded  red  brocade.  "How  old  were  you  when  you 
married,  great-grandmamma  ?" 

"I  was  seventeen,  little  heart,  and  my  mother  was 
married  when  she  was  fifteen.  Her  husband  fought 
at  Waterloo  six  weeks  after  the  wedding.  He  was 
badly  wounded  and  was  never  the  same  man  again. 
She  used  to  tell  me  about  his  sufferings  and  about  her 
own." 

Brenda  loved  that  room  and  the  two  old  ladies  in  ii^ 


70  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

the  stories  they  told  her  of  bygone  days,  and  their 
tender  quaint  ways  with  her  and  with  each  other. 

"But  Brenda  ought  to  marry,"  one  of  them  said  to 
the  other,  coming  back  to  the  subject  on  their  minds. 

"Has  your  mother  not  told  you  so?"  they  said  to 
her.  "If  you  come  back  next  year,  I  hope  it  will  be 
with  a  husband." 

This  plain  speaking  amused  the  girl,  but  she  found 
it  difficult  to  parry.  Why  had  she  reached  the  mature 
age  of  twenty-two  without  any  chance  of  marriage? 
Her  father  could  give  her  a  dowry  and  furnish  a  house 
for  her;  she  was  a  good-looking  girl  and  evidently 
healthy.  The  old  ladies  laid  great  stress  on  her  being 
healthy. 

"By  this  time  you  should  be  the  mother  of  sons," 
said  great-grandmamma.  "Men  children  who  would 
serve  their  country." 

"But  Brenda  is  English.  Probably  her  sons  would 
be  English,"  said  grandmamma. 

"That  has  nothing  to  say,"  asserted  great-grand- 
mamma. "Blood  is  what  counts,  not  birth.  Let 
us  pray  that  the  lieber  Gott  sends  the  child  a  good 
German." 

"Have  you  ever  been  asked  in  marriage?"  said 
grandmamma,  who  in  all  she  did  was  thorough  and 
methodical;  and  when  she  put  her  mind  on  a  subject 
would  not  remove  it  again  till  she  knew  what  she 
wanted. 

"Oh!  I  suppose  so,"  said  Brenda,  blushing. 
"I'll  wear  my  best  white  gown  when  I  come  to- 
morrow, great-grandmamma.  It  came  from  Paris." 

"If  you  were  asked,  why  did  you  not  accept?"  per- 
sisted grandmamma.  "Do  you  then  wish  to  be  an 
old  maid?" 

"I  haven't  made  up  my  mind,"  said  Brenda.  "Do 
you  like  any  color  with  a  white  gown,  great-grand- 
mamma ?" 

"Cornflowers,"       quavered       great-grandmamma, 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  71 

"With  white  a  young  girl  should  wear  either  rosebuds 
or  cornflowers,  and  you  may  still  be  called  a  young  girl 
although  you  have  certainly  left  the  budding  age  be- 
hind you." 

"I  have  not  seen  any  cornflowers  yet,"  said  Brenda. 
"Don't  they  come  in  August?" 

"You  can  get  beautiful  imitation  ones,"  said  great- 
grandmamma. 

"What  was  wrong  with  the  young  man?"  said 
grandmamma. 

It  was  such  a  difficult  question  to  answer  that  Brenda 
began  to  laugh,  and  that  vexed  her  grandmother.  You 
see,  there  had  been  various  young  men  of  late  years, 
some  outspoken,  some  indeterminately  amorous,  but 
all  hovering  about  the  house  in  turn  and  all  in  turn 
discouraged.  Brenda  did  not  want  to  be  captious,  but 
somehow  the  men  she  happened  to  meet  were  well 
enough  but  never  touched  by  the  magic  that  changes 
liking  into  love.  Except  Andrew!  and  he  had  not 
spoken. 

"He  had  no  money,  so  he  could  not  marry,"  she 
blurted  out,  because  she  saw  that  grandmamma  was 
vexed,  and  it  would  not  matter  what  she  said  here,  far 
away  from  everything  and  every  one  belonging  to 
home. 

"In  that  case  he  should  not  have  asked,"  said 
grandmamma  decidedly.  "A  young  man  who  first 
asks  and  then  says  he  has  no  money  is  either  a  knave 
or  a  fool." 

"But  he  didn't,"  cried  Brenda,  feeling  that  in  spite 
of  herself  her  heart  was  being  pinned  upon  her  sleeve. 
"Those  who  asked  I  sent  away,  and  the  one  who  was 
silent  .  .  ." 

The  two  old  ladies  looked  at  each  other  expressively. 
Then  one  of  them  stroked  Brenda's  hand,  while  the 
other  ambled  out  of  the  room  to  watch  their  maid  pre- 
pare the  coffee.  For  in  that  nineteenth-century  house- 
hold there  was  no  danger  of  getting  the  wishy-washy 


72  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

tea  and  horrible  cheap  biscuits  the  modern  German 
offers  you  in  the  afternoon,  and  Brenda  had  invited 
herself  to  coffee  because,  as  she  explained  to  her  father, 
it  was  safer  than  going  to  see  them  between  meals. 

"We  must  eat  and  drink  there,  darling,"  she  ex- 
plained, "and  I  would  rather  have  coffee  and  cakes 
at  four  than  fruit  tart  with  whipped  cream  the  moment 
after  ten  courses  at  the  hotel  or  just  before  supper." 

"But  you  can  always  refuse,"  said  Mr.  Miiller;  "I 
do." 

"Which  I'd  rather  eat  till  I  bust  than  hurt  their 
feelings,"  said  Brenda.  "Grandmamma  nearly  wept 
yesterday  because  you  left  your  chocolate  cake  on 
your  plate.  She  said,  'Gustav  no  longer  enjoys 
what  I  bake  for  him.  His  wife  is  from  Berlin  and  he 
probably  has  a  yearning  for  Baumkuchenl" 

"Can't  you  tell  them  that  a  man  of  my  age  doesn't 
eat  cakes  much?"  said  Mr.  Miiller,  and  Brenda 
promised  that  she  would  put  his  case  before  them. 

"I  also,"  crooned  great-grandmamma,  when  her 
daughter  went  out  to  the  kitchen  and  she  was  left 
alone  with  Brenda,  "I  also  loved  before  I  married.  I 
also  ate  my  bread  with  tears.  When  I  took  your 
great-grandfather  it  was  because  my  parents  wished 
it ;  but  love  came  later.  Marry  a  man,  my  little  dove, 
and  trust  to  heaven." 

Then  grandmamma  came  in  with  a  whole  trayful 
of  quite  freshly  baked  cakes  that  she  hoped  her  dear 
Gustav  would  find  to  his  liking;  and  Brenda  tried  to 
explain  that  her  father  only  ate  bread  and  butter  for 
tea  at  home,  but  found,  as  usual,  that  the  old  ladies 
could  take  no  point  of  view  except  their  own.  In 
England,  where  no  one  knew  how  to  bake,  the  poor 
man  might  be  driven  to  the  insipidity  of  bread  and 
butter,  but  in  his  mother's  house  he  should  at  least 
have  the  chance  of  something  better.  So  here  waf 
sugar-cake  strewn  with  cinnamon,  and  almond  pyra- 
mids as  luscious  as  new  macaroons,  and  doughnuts 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  73 

from  the  pan.  With  which  now  would  Brenda  begin, 
or,  if  she  was  not  faint  with  hunger,  should  they  wait 
till  her  father  came?  He  had  promised  to  be  here 
punctually  at  four,  and  his  mother  had  promised  to 
have  the  doughnuts  ready  for  him.  When  he  was  a 
boy  she  had  frequently  seen  him  eat  a  dozen. 

There  was  a  ring  at  the  door,  Mr.  Miiller's  voice  out- 
side, another  unknown  louder  voice,  and  then  the 
arrival  in  the  room  of  Brenda's  father,  unexpectedly 
followed  by  a  magnificent  gray-blue  officer  trailing  his 
sword. 

"I  bring  you  my  nephew,  Captain  Erdmann,"  said 
Mr.  Muller. 

The  splendid  apparition  brought  his  heels  together, 
made  a  profound  bow  in  the  direction  of  the  ladies 
and  murmured  something  about  having  the  honor. 

"Lothar!"  cried  Brenda  in  astonishment. 

"My  beautiful  cousin !"  said  Lothar,  bending  deeply 
over  her  hand  and  kissing  it. 

"If  I  had  met  you  by  chance,  I  should  not  have 
known  you,"  she  said. 

"I  should  have  known  you  anywhere,"  said  he 
gallantly. 

But  Brenda,  as  you  know,  had  not  seen  her  cousin 
in  uniform  before,  and  the  difference  it  made  amazed 
her.  Every  point  he  possessed,  his  fine  carriage,  his 
ramrod  back,  breadth  of  shoulder  and  general  look  of 
physical  power  were  enhanced  by  what  he  wore,  so 
that  the  perfection  of  his  attire  became  part  of  him, 
and  even  supplied  qualities  that  in  civil  kit  had  been 
wanting.  To-day  he  looked  distinguished,  as  well  as 
big  and  strong;  and  his  arrogance  of  voice  and  man- 
ner became  the  signs  of  a  caste  rather  than  the  defects 
of  an  individual.  The  old  ladies  were  childishly  proud 
and  happy  to  entertain  him,  and  Brenda  was  not  sur- 
prised when  they  served  him  with  coffee  before  her. 
In  fact,  such  is  the  force  of  environment  on  some 
natures  that  it  seemed  almost  fitting.  Was  he  not  a 


74  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

man  and  an  officer,  while  she  was  merely  a  girl  who 
ought  to  have  been  married  years  ago,  but  unhappily, 
in  the  idiom  of  the  country,  was  still  to  be  had? 

"I  thought  you  were  always  in  Berlin,"  she  said  to 
her  cousin. 

"As  a  rule  I  am  in  Berlin,"  said  he.  "But  just  now 
I'm  in  Mannheim." 

His  eyes  were  fixed  on  Brenda  with  admiration.  It 
was  three  years  since  they  had  met,  and  he  saw  that 
she  was  prettier  than  ever  and  extremely  well  dressed. 
Unlike  the  two  old  ladies,  he  could  appreciate  the  per- 
fection of  her  clothes  and  the  quiet  self-possession  of 
her  manner.  She  had  taken  off  her  coat,  and  he  knew 
enough  of  such  things  to  guess  that  her  thin  white 
blouse  had  probably  cost  as  much  as  the  two  old  ladies 
spent  on  two  or  three  of  their  serviceable  stuffy  alpaca 
gowns  maltreated  by  a  local  dressmaker.  Her  shoes 
and  her  gloves  were  highly  correct,  too,  and  her  hand- 
kerchief was  as  thin  as  a  cobweb.  In  short,  here  was 
a  young  female  cousin  to  encourage  and  be  proud  of. 

"You  will  come  over  to  Mannheim,  I  hope?"  he 
said  to  his  uncle. 

"We  are  coming  on  Saturday,"  said  Brenda.  "We 
have  tickets  for  the  opera." 

"The  opera!"  cried  Lothar.  "But  I  want  you  to 
come  and  see  me." 

"Brenda  wishes  to  hear  Die  Meistcr singer  for  the 
hundredth  time,"  said  Mr.  Miiller.  "With  me  what 
Brenda  wishes  is  law,  when  we  are  on  the  Bummel 
together." 

"I  can  understand  that,"  said  Lothar.  "If  my 
beautiful  cousin  smiles,  you  instantly  wish  to  do  her 
will." 

"I  have  only  heard  Die  Meistersinger  five  times," 
said  Brenda.  "Besides,  father  loves  it  just  as  much 
as  I  do." 

"I  have  a  brilliant  idea,"  said  Lothar.  "Come  to 
Mannheim  for  one  of  your  English  week-ends.  On 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  75 

Saturday  we  will  meet  at  the  opera  and  on  Sunday  you 
will  be  my  guests.  We  will  make  an  expedition." 

"I  should  like  that,"  said  Brenda.  "Where  could 
we  go?" 

"I  will  arrange  everything,"  said  Lothar.  "Will 
you  have  supper  with  me  after  the  opera,  Uncle  Gus- 
tav?  I  shall  be  in  the  theater,  too.  Give  me  your 
tickets  and  I  will  exchange  them  so  that  we  can  sit 
together." 

"When  do  you  return  to  Mannheim?"  said  Mr. 
Miiller,  looking  a  little  overwhelmed  by  the  rapidity 
of  these  arrangements. 

Lothar  hesitated  a  moment  before  he  answered.  He 
was  not  obliged  to  be  back  on  duty  till  next  morning, 
but  he  had  an  engagement  at  Mannheim  for  to-night 
and  had  intended  to  leave  Heidelberg  in  half  an  hour 
in  order  to  fulfill  it. 

"We  are  going  to  drive  up  to  the  Schloss  to-night 
and  have  supper  there,"  said  Brenda. 

"I  had  thought  of  doing  the  same,"  said  Lothar. 
"A  colossal  idea.  It  will  be  cool  up  there.  I  must 
just  send  a  telegram  and  see  about  a  carriage.  You 
are  staying  at  the  Prinz  Carl,  you  say.  Then  you  will 
allow  me  to  fetch  you  in  an  hour's  time.  We  can  have 
supper  where  my  uncle  pleases.  But  perhaps  a  little 
walk  in  the  woods  first  .  .  ." 

"I  do  not  like  being  swallowed,"  Mr.  Miiller  said 
rather  irritably  when  his  nephew  had  clattered  out  of 
the  room.  "My  wife's  nephew  is  very  polite,  but  I 
prefer  to  make  my  own  plans." 

"Such  a  handsome  man,"  murmured  the  old  ladies, 
"so  big,  so  straight,  so  gallant.  What  a  Brdutigaml 
What  a  lover !  How  comes  it  that  he  is  still  a  bachelor  ? 
Doubtless  his  heart  is  no  longer  his  own." 

"I  don't  see  anything  handsome  about  him,"  said 
Mr.  Miiller.  "He  has  a  big  bony  frame  and  I  hate 
freckles  on  a  red  face!" 

"He  partook  twice  of  my  dough-cakes,"  said  grand- 


76  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

mamma.  "How  glad  I  am  that  I  baked  them.  Per- 
haps he  is  not  an  Adonis,  but  he  is  highly  refined.  I 
saw  that  he  took  stock  of  Brenda's  clothes,  and  I  fear 
that  he  did  not  admire  them.  He  is  used  to  Berlin 
fashions,  which,  I  am  told,  excel  all  others  now." 

"Run  back  quickly  to  the  hotel,  little  love,  and  put 
on  your  best  white  gown,  the  one  you  promised  to 
wear  for  us  to-morrow,"  said  great-grandmamma. 
"In  that  plain  gray  cloth  you  cannot  do  yourself 
justice." 

"I  think  I  will  go  back  to  the  hotel,  father,"  said 
Brenda,  getting  up.  "We  shall  both  want  warm 
wraps  to-night.  It  gets  chilly  driving." 

"Are  thy  wife's  relations  well  off,  Gustav?"  said 
his  mother  when  Brenda  had  gone  on. 

"I  believe  so,"  he  said.    "Why  do  you  ask?" 

"Thy  daughter  is  still  very  pretty  and  fresh,"  said 
great-grandmamma. 

"Still!  Bless  me!  Brenda  is  only  twenty-two," 
said  Mr.  Miiller. 

"At  her  age  thy  father  was  four,"  said  great-grand- 
mamma. "I  married  at  seventeen." 

"Brenda  must  please  herself,"  said  Mr.  Miiller. 

"Those  are  English  ideas.  I  like  them  not.  If 
Brenda's  marriage  is  not  your  affair,  whose  is  it?" 

"Well!  her  own.  Of  course  I  want  her  to  marry 
the  right  man  if  she  marries  at  all.  Her  mother  tells 
me  she  is  difficult  to  please." 

"That  is  a  fault,  and  you  should  reason  with  her 
about  it.  My  father  boxed  my  ears  when  I  hesitated 
and  called  me  a  silly  goose.  He  knew  what  was  good 
for  me,  he  said.  Time  proved  him  right.  Your  grand- 
father was  all  a  husband  should  be." 

Mr.  Miiller  felt  rather  depressed  by  these  reminis- 
cences and  this  advice,  because  he  never  had  considered 
the  marriage  of  his  daughters  his  affair.  It  was  a 
matter  for  themselves  and  their  mother  in  the  first 
place,  and  only  came  before  him  in  the  later  stages 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  77 

when  the  financial  question  had  to  be  solved.  At 
least  Thekla's  marriage  had  been  arranged  in  this  way, 
and  he  took  for  granted  that  in  due  time  Brenda's 
would  follow.  He  was  in  no  hurry. 

"I  hope  she  will  marry  in  England  as  her  sister  has 
done,"  he  said,  and  then  Lothar  ruffled  in  again,  and 
the  two  men  went  to  the  Prinz  Carl  together  and  found 
Brenda  ready  for  them.  She  had  not  put  on  her  white 
gown,  but  she  looked  uncommonly  pretty  in  a  blue  one. 

The  gardens  of  the  castle  were  crowded  with  parties 
of  students  and  with  townspeople,  a  military  band 
was  playing,  waiters  were  rushing  heatedly  to  and  fro, 
and  the  clatter  of  voices  drowned  the  softer  strains  of 
the  music.  Lothar's  table  attracted  general  attention, 
because  there  were  not  many  officers  present  and  be- 
cause Brenda  looked  foreign  and  smart  as  well  as 
enchantingly  pretty.  A  party  of  corps  students  cast 
so  many  glances  her  way  that  Lothar  began  to  take  it 
amiss,  and  after  returning  their  glances  with  a  furious 
scowl  suddenly  pushed  back  his  chair  and  half  rose 
from  it  with  every  intention  of  picking  up  a  quarrel. 

"What's  the  matter?"  said  Mr.  Miiller,  looking  up 
from  the  Speise-karte  in  surprise.  "Aren't  you  well?" 

"Those  gentlemen  are  annoying  my  cousin,"  said 
Lothar  in  a  loud  voice.  "I  wish  to  point  out  to  them 
that,  if  they  fix  their  eyes  on  her  again,  one  of  them 
will  answer  to  me  for  it." 

"What  are  they  doing?"  said  Mr.  Miiller,  who  sat 
with  his  back  to  the  offenders.  He  turned  his  head 
now  and  saw  half  a  dozen  fat-faced  students,  scarred 
and  beefy,  but  apparently  harmless. 

Meanwhile  Brenda  had  noticed  that  the  young  men 
were  staring,  but  merely  set  them  down  as  loutish  and 
ill-mannered;  so  she  got  up,  and  before  Lothar  could 
interfere  took  a  chair  next  to  her  father. 

"Now  they  can  only  fixir  the  back  of  my  head  and 
you  needn't  worry  about  that,"  she  said.  "We  wa,ni 
supper,  not  bloodshed." 


78  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  said  haughtily. 

"Weren't  you  going  to  run  your  sword  through 
them?  You  looked  like  it." 

"In  Germany  we  allow  no  jests  about  such  things," 
he  said.  "When  the  honor  of  the  army  makes  it 
necessary  we  do  them." 

"I  know  you  do,"  said  Brenda.  "That's  why  I've 
changed  my  seat.  You  needn't  glower  like  that, 
Lothar.  I  will  not  have  one  of  your  bloodthirsty 
quarrels  in  my  presence.  I  should  hate  it,  and  so 
would  father." 

"Kalbscarbonade,"  murmured  Mr.  Miiller,  "always 
Kalbscarbonade.  Wiener-Schnitzel  is  better.  Let  us 
have  Rhcinlachs  and  then  Wiener-Schnitzel.  What 
will  you  drink,  nephew?  I  like  Berncastler  Doktor." 

"I  want  Maitrank,"  said  Brenda.  "When  the  moon 
is  rising  and  you  see  the  Neckar  winding  through 
the  valley  below  you,  and  you  think  of  Heine  and 
storks  and  goblins  you  must  certainly  drink  Mait- 
rank." 

"You  may  have  it,"  said  Mr.  Miiller.  "I  never  think 
of  storks  and  goblins  and  I  hate  sugary  drinks." 

"I  also,"  said  Lothar;  "they  are  bad  for  the  liver." 


VIII 

LOTHAR  met  them  at  the  station  next  day,  and 
as  his  tall  figure  strode  towards  them  across  the 
platform,    admiring   civilians    seemed   to   make 
way  for  him  much  as  people  do  at  a  party  when  royal- 
ties arrive.     Brenda  was  conscious  that  all  eyes  fol- 
lowed her  as  she  walked  beside  her  cousin  to  the  car 
he  had  waiting  outside :  a  car  lent  him  by  a  friend  for 
to-day  and  to-morrow,  he  told  her.     It  took  them  to 
the  Pfalzer  Hof,  where  he  had  engaged  rooms  for  them 
and  where  she  found  in  her  own  room  an  elaborate 
basket  of  roses  and  a  large  box  of  chocolates,  both 
with  her  cousin's  card  attached.    She  thanked  him  for 
them  when  they  met  at  the  theater,  where  he  had 
changed  Mr.  Miiller's  stalls  for  a  box  in  the  best  part 
of  the  house.    Then  the  prelude  to  the  Meistersinger 
began  and  she  leaned  back  to  listen  with  rapturous 
attention.     When  it  came  to  an  end  a  younger  man 
than  Lothar  entered  the  box  and  was  introduced  as 
Lieutenant   Siebert.        He  had  an  attractive  boyish 
face,  and  Brenda  saw  that  he  felt  honored  by  being 
allowed  to  join  Lothar's  party  and  that  he  treated 
her  cousin  with  deference  as  his  elder  and  superior. 
She  hoped  she  would  be  able  to  take  a  short  holiday 
in  Germany  without  succumbing  to  the  magic  exer- 
cised by  uniforms,  but  she  recognized  that  her  present 
companions  were  putting  a  spell  on  her.     Mr.  Miiller 
did  not  seem  affected,  but  he  was  not  so  impressionable 
as  his  daughter,  and  had  always  regarded  Lothar  with 
dislike.    When  he  got  back  to  his  hotel  the  other  night 

79 


8o  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

he  had  surprised  Brenda  by  saying  something  that 
showed  he  had  not  been  so  deep  in  the  Speise-karte 
as  he  seemed.  He  had  known  that  Lothar  was  on  the 
brink  of  provoking  a  quarrel  with  the  students,  and 
felt  extremely  angry  with  him  for  so  nearly  involving 
Brenda  in  a  disagreeable  scene.  He  would  have  can- 
celled all  future  engagements  with  him  if  he  had 
pleased  himself,  but  Brenda  said  that  she  wanted  to 
hear  Die  Meistersinger  and  spend  Sunday  in  the  forest. 
She  would  tell  Lothar  that  he  must  not  be  so  touchy 
on  her  account. 

"He'll  be  offended  with  you  if  you  do.  I  know 
the  breed,"  said  Mr.  Miiller. 

"But  he  can't  run  me  through  with  his  sword," 
said  Brenda.  "I'm  not  afraid  of  him." 

She  wore  the  white  gown  from  Paris  to-night  and  a 
row  of  pearls  that  her  father  had  given  her  on  her 
twenty-first  birthday.  When  she  appeared  in  the  box 
every  one  in  the  theater  looked  at  her  and  wondered 
who  she  could  be.  The  officers  on  either  side  of  her 
they  knew,  but  no  one  knew  her.  She  had  beautiful 
eyes  and  hair  and  the  English  manner ;  she  was  elegant 
and  self-composed;  in  fact,  for  a  girl  of  her  age  rather 
serious  looking.  That  was  evidently  her  father  in 
civil  clothes  and  he  looked  English,  too.  Who  were 
they?  No  one  knew  until  the  curtain  went  down  on 
the  first  act,  and  then  some  one,  meeting  Lieutenant 
Siebert  in  the  corridor,  discovered  that  the  father  and 
daughter  were  from  London  and  were  called  Miiller. 
Of  German  origin  then?  The  Lieutenant  supposed  so, 
since  Captain  Erdmann  was  the  young  lady's  cousin. 

Meanwhile  Brenda  looked  at  the  audience  and 
thought  here,  too,  were  signs  of  the  old  Germany,  said 
in  England  to  be  pushed  out  of  existence  by  the  new 
one.  On  the  whole,  the  women  were  as  dowdy  and 
the  men  as  pot-bellied  as  (in  the  language  of  Treva) 
they  belonged  to  be,  no  one  wore  evening-dress,  and  in 
the  cheaper  parts  of  the  house  she  saw  the  tartan 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  81 

blouses  fastened  with  brooches  from  Pforzheim  that 
rejoiced  her  because  they  were  hideous  and  traditional 
.  .  .  like  pigtails  and  Pumpernickel.  The  singer  who 
took  the  part  of  Hans  Sachs  was  of  a  breadth  she  had 
never  imagined  possible  except  in  caricature,  and 
though  his  voice  was  fine  his  appearance  spoilt  her 
pleasure.  But  when  she  said  so  the  little  lieutenant 
looked  as  if  he  thought  her  blasphemous.  Eva  was 
a  strapping  wench  with  enormous  hips  and  a  tread 
like  a  grenadier;  and  the  lieutenant  said  that  as 
Gretchen  she  brought  tears  to  his  eyes. 

"Do  you  think  Gretchen  weighed  fourteen  stone?" 
said  Brenda,  but  she  spoke  so  that  only  her  father 
heard.  She  enjoyed  the  whole  performance  exceed- 
ingly, and  when  they  entered  the  restaurant  at  which 
Lothar  had  ordered  supper  her  eyes  were  full  of  the 
dreamy  enjoyment  that  lifted  her  spirit.  This  was 
the  best  of  all  possible  worlds  in  which  such  music 
could  be  easily  heard  and  still  echoed  in  the  depths  of 
your  soul  while  you  fed  on  nectar  and  ambrosia  in 
gay  surroundings. 

"I  do  envy  you,"  she  said  to  the  two  young  men; 
"any  evening  when  you  feel  like  it  you  can  just  walk 
across  the  street  and  hear  such  music  as  we  have 
heard  to-night." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Lothar.  "Nine  times  out  of 
ten  you  would  find  they  were  playing  rubbish.  We 
have  not  had  a  Wagner  night  for  weeks." 

"There  is  first-rate  music  in  London,"  said  Mr. 
Muller. 

"But  it  isn't  just  at  the  end  of  the  road,"  said 
Brenda.  "It  isn't  daily  bread  with  us." 

"Griddiges  Frdulein  should  live  in  Germany,"  said 
the  little  lieutenant,  "then  she  would  have  music  to 
her  heart's  content." 

Lothar  said  nothing,  but  his  eyes  turned  again  and 
again  to  Brenda  with  brooding.  He  had  ordered  the 
kind  of  supper  a  girl  is  supposed  to  like,  a  mayonnaise 


82  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

of  lobster,  then  chicken,  meringues,  fruit  and  iced 
champagne ;  and  he  made  a  good  host  to-night,  rather 
silent  but  attentive.  Brenda  had  never  liked  him  so 
much.  In  his  own  surroundings  he  seemed  to  have 
dignity  and  weight.  The  deference  with  which  he 
was  treated  contrasted  itself  in  her  thoughts  with  the 
want  of  it  he  must  have  met  in  England,  where  he 
spoke  with  a  foreign  accent  and  wore  shoddy  civilian 
clothes.  Perhaps  it  was  natural  that  he  should  dis- 
like England,  considering  the  disadvantages  under 
which  he  labored  there.  She  had  experienced  nothing 
corresponding  to  it  in  Germany  so  far.  Even  the 
patent  fact  that  she  was  English  did  not  seem  to  pre- 
vent any  one  from  looking  at  her  with  approval.  She 
felt  more  conspicuously  elegant  and  attractive  in 
Mannheim  than  she  had  ever  done  in  London,  where 
her  own  appraisement  of  herself  would  have  said  that 
she  could  pass  in  a  crowd. 

"You  have  never  been  in  England,"  she  said  to 
the  little  lieutenant,  who  had  been  comparing  Paris 
and  Berlin,  greatly  to  the  advantage  of  Berlin.  "You 
don't  know  London?" 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  hope  to  go  there  some  day." 

He  was  a  pleasant,  guileless  boy  and  spoke  without 
any  double  meaning,  but  Lothar's  laugh  put  a  gloss 
on  his  words. 

"I'm  afraid  that  my  cousin  didn't  like  London," 
she  said. 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Lothar,  "I  like  it  so  well 
that  I  am  soon  going  there  again." 

"Are  you?     When  and  for  how  long?" 

"That  I  cannot  tell  you.    I  am  under  orders." 

"Have  you  ever  been  to  England  since  you  stayed 
with  us?"' 

"I  was  there  last  summer,  but  not  in  London." 

"Where  were  you?" 

"Here  and  there.  I  traveled  about,"  said  Lothar, 
and  changed  the  subject  by  filling  up  his  glass  with 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  83 

champagne    and    drinking    to    his    beautiful    cousin. 

Next  day  he  and  the  little  lieutenant  brought  the 
car  to  the  hotel  and  took  Mr.  Muller  and  Brenda 
through  part  of  the  Bergstrasse,  where  Brenda  again 
saw  those  aspects  of  Germany  that  she  dearly  loved. 
In  two  hours  they  were  in  the  depths  of  the  forest,  far 
away  from  the  life  of  towns  and  amongst  such  village 
scenes  as  she  had  read  of  in  Auerbach's  novels.  A 
wedding  procession  on  its  way  to  church  so  thrilled  her 
that  she  wanted  to  alight  for  lunch  in  the  village  where 
it  had  taken  place  and  where  there  was  evidently  un- 
usual life  and  stir.  After  speaking  to  a  passer-by  about 
it,  Lothar  said  he  had  no  objection,  since  the  bride  was 
an  innkeeper's  daughter  and  there  would  be  a  wedding 
dinner  ready  at  her  father's  house. 

"But  will  they  attend  to  us  when  they  are  so  busy?" 
said  Brenda. 

She  doubted  whether  her  cousin  heard  what  she 
said.  At  any  rate  he  did  not  answer,  but  stopped  the 
car  at  the  inn,  clattered  into  the  garden,  chose  the 
best  table  there  and  ordered  dinner  to  be  served  at 
once.  While  they  waited  Brenda  looked  about  her, 
interested  and  amused.  The  whole  place  seemed  to 
be  swarming  with  peasants  in  their  best  clothes,  and 
the  little  lieutenant  told  her  that  some  were  guests 
and  some  had  just  come  in  a  neighborly  way  to  see 
the  fun  and  do  the  host  a  good  turn  by  eating  and 
drinking  at  their  own  expense.  The  wedding  feast 
was  about  to  begin  indoors,  and  through  the  open 
windows  Brenda  could  see  people  assembling  at  a  long 
narrow  table.  In  the  garden  two  sturdy  tousled  young 
women  rushed  to  and  fro  with  mugs  of  beer,  bread  and 
cheese,  but  nothing  else  arrived;  and  after  waiting 
twenty  minutes  at  an  empty  table  Lothar  grew  im- 
patient and  hammered  on  it  loudly. 

First  the  waitress  came  and  then  the  host,  and  then, 
as  it  seemed  to  Brenda,  every  one  else.  She  felt 
ashamed  of  the  commotion  their  party  made,  of  Lo- 


84  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

thar's  brow-beating  manner  and  of  the  humble  terror 
he  inspired.  The  more  loudly  he  stormed  the  more 
anxious  the  people  of  the  inn  were  to  serve  him,  and 
though  the  world  stood  still  for  every  one  else  the  two 
officers  and  their  friends  got  dinner  in  a  trice.  Even 
the  bride  helped,  bringing  a  salad,  and  looking  de- 
lighted when  Lothar  complimented  her  and  promised 
to  drink  her  health.  Then  she  looked  curiously  at 
Brenda,  and  asked  if  she  were  married. 

"No!"  said  Brenda. 

"Not  even  betrothed?" 

"No!" 

"What  a  pity!"  said  the  bride,  and  wishing  them 
all  a  good  appetite,  retired  to  her  own  feast,  which,  the 
little  lieutenant  told  Brenda,  would  last  four  or  five 
hours.  After  the  feast  there  would  be  dancing  till 
three  in  the  morning. 

"How  tired  the  bride  will  be !"  said  Brenda. 

"She  will  go  home  with  her  husband  after  dinner," 
said  Lothar,  and  his  eyes  sought  his  cousin's  with 
brooding.  There  was  hesitation  in  them,  she  felt,  as 
if  he  was  drawn  to  her,  but  doubted  the  wisdom  of  his 
own  desires.  She  herself  felt  half  interested,  half 
afraid,  but  not  particularly  happy.  If  the  great  ad- 
venture of  life  was  on  its  way,  it  came  with  some  for- 
bidding features  that  gave  her  pause.  Her  heart  did 
not  go  out  to  Lothar  as  it  had  a  year  ago  to  Andrew 
Lovel.  There  was  no  divine  unselfishness  about  her 
cousin,  and  she  could  not  imagine  him  renouncing  what 
he  wanted  from  scruple.  Probably  he  was  a  smart 
officer  and  had  a  career  before  him.  He  had  been 
well  hammered  and  was  now  ready  to  hammer  other 
people.  That  was  the  impression  he  gave  her. 

After  they  had  eaten  they  set  forth  again  in  the  car 
for  a  point  further  on,  where  Lothar  said  a  walk  of 
about  a  mile  would  take  them  to  a  fine  view  on  the  top 
of  a  hill  and  a  restaurant  where  they  could  get  coffee. 

"Is  there  a  single  hill  in  Germany  without  a  restaur- 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  85 

ant  at  the  top?"  said  Brenda,  when  they  alighted  and 
began  their  walk. 

"If  you  prefer  it  I  will  take  you  to  one  where  there 
is  none,"  said  Lothar.  "But  then,  as  I  am  not  a 
magician,  we  cannot  have  coffee." 

"Do  you  know  this  neighborhood  well,  then?" 

Lothar  said  he  knew  every  path,  because  when  he 
was  a  child  the  family  used  to  come  here  for  the  sum- 
mer holidays.  At  the  top  there  was  a  large  hotel  as 
well  as  a  restaurant,  both  open  from  June  till  Septem- 
ber; as  it  was  always  crowded  with  Berliners  you 
could  spend  a  few  weeks  there  very  agreeably,  being 
certain  beforehand  of  good  cooking,  cheerful  company 
and  mountain  air. 

"When  my  sisters  got  older,  they  persuaded  my 
father  to  go  to  Switzerland,"  he  said.  "I  never  liked 
that.  In  Switzerland  it  is  practically  impossible  to 
avoid  English  people.  Here  you  never  see  one." 

"Why  do  you  dislike  us  so  much?"  asked  Brenda. 

"I  do  not  reckon  you  amongst  them.  If  I  did,  I 
should  have  tact  enough  not  to  speak  of  them.  You 
are  German." 

"I  am  not,"  said  Brenda. 

"You  cannot  help  it." 

"Yes,  I  can.  It  is  your  soul  that  makes  you  what 
you  are,  not  the  country  where  your  parents  were  born. 
For  that  matter  my  father  and  mother  are  English, 
too,  in  all  their  ideas  and  sympathies." 

"Then  they  are  renegades." 

"I  don't  agree  with  you.  We  take  everything 
from  England,  her  life,  her  laws,  her  safety.  Our 
money  is  made  there.  Our  home  is  there.  She  is  our 
country,  and  any  of  us  young  ones  would  die  for  her  if 
the  need  arose." 

"But  you  love  Germany,"  said  Lothar. 

"I  love  Heidelberg  and  this,"  said  Brenda. 

They  had  walked  some  way  uphill  by  this  time,  but 
they  had  walked  slowly  and  Mr.  Miiller  with  the  little 


86  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

lieutenant  was  well  ahead.  They  were  out  of  sight 
when  Lothar,  arriving  at  a  point  where  there  was  a 
sign-post,  took  a  narrow  side-path  instead  of  the  main 
one. 

"Is  this  right?"  said  Brenda  doubtfully. 

"Quite  right;  I  shall  show  you  the  view,  and  then 
we  shall  join  the  others." 

Sometimes  Brenda  wondered  if  the  whole  tenor  of 
her  life  would  have  been  different  if  she  had  insisted 
on  following  where  her  father  had  led;  for  the  sign- 
post pointed  along  the  main  path  and  said  that  from 
here  it  was  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  walk  to  the  restaur- 
ant. But  it  was  an  unsatisfactory  subject  for  specula- 
tion, because  it  could  never  be  settled  one  way  or  the 
other.  She  followed  her  cousin,  and  the  further  they 
went  the  more  completely  wood-magic  cast  its  spell 
over  them.  Side  by  side,  as  the  path  grew  broader, 
they  walked  beneath  the  golden  shade  of  the  great 
forest  trees  until  the  silence  became  charged  with  emo- 
tion and  dangerous.  It  was  not  a  forest  with  a  dull 
bare  carpet  of  pine  needles,  but  one  with  an  under- 
growth of  fern,  bilberry,  heather  and  wild  flowers; 
while  below  the  path  the  land  shelved  a  little  to  a 
foaming  stream  tumbling  headlong  over  boulders. 
Brenda,  coming  lately  from  London,  took  great  joy  in 
such  a  paradise,  and  her  silence  depended  on  her  happy 
thoughts  as  well  as  on  her  electric  consciousness  of  her 
cousin's  presence.  She  gathered  a  little  bouquet  as  she 
walked,  but  Lothar  made  no  attempt  to  gather  flowers 
with  her.  He  stalked  on,  ominously  quiet  and  self- 
centered,  yet  intent  on  her;  for  if  she  met  his  eyes  she 
saw  the  same  sombre  fire  in  them  that  she  had  seen  last 
night  at  the  theater:  a  fire  that  both  alarmed  and 
compelled  her. 

"Shall  we  soon  get  to  the  top?"  she  said. 

"Very  soon.     Are  you  tired?" 

"Not  the  least.  But  I  don't  want  the  others  to 
think  we  are  lost." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  87 

"You  need  not  be  anxious.  I  told  Siebert  that  we 
should  come  this  way  and  he  will  tell  your  father." 

Towards  the  top  the  trees  were  not  as  big  or  as  dense 
as  they  were  lower  down,  and  the  path  itself  became 
rougher,  for  it  was  not  one  used  by  the  public  and  kept 
in  good  repair.  At  last  it  grew  so  steep  and  broken 
that  it  was  not  easy  for  Brenda  to  keep  her  foothold 
and  she  had  to  let  Lothar  give  her  a  hand.  The  last 
step  of  all,  over  a  rock,  was  so  difficult  that  he  had  to 
help  her  from  above  with  both  hands,  and  as  he  pulled 
her  into  safety  beside  him  he  held  her  closely  to  him. 
His  grip  was  like  iron,  but  his  face  was  pale  and  his 
voice  had  lost  its  usual  harshness  when  he  spoke. 

"Little  cousin!"  he  said.     "I  love  you." 

Brenda  did  not  know  what  to  say.  She  was  out  of 
breath  because  the  steepness  and  difficulty  of  that  last 
step  had  been  considerable.  She  would  have  said  it 
could  not  be  done  if  Lothar  had  not  stood  inexorably 
above,  taking  for  granted  that  when  he  held  out  his 
hands  she  would  obediently  seize  them.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  in  the  great  issue  he  was  doing  just  the 
same.  He  held  out  his  hands,  and  she  had  only  to  put 
her  own  in  them  to  be  carried  where  he  led.  But  did 
she  want  to  be  carried?  Would  she  not  rather  walk 
on  her  own  feet  even  if  she  stumbled? 

"Little  cousin!"  he  said  again.  "Why  are  you 
silent?  I  am  asking  you  to  be  my  bride — my  bride 
and  my  wife." 

"I'm  trying  to  think,"  said  Brenda. 

"Kiss  me  instead,"  said  Lothar,  and,  stooping  down, 
he  kissed  her,  not  with  an  alarming  violence,  which 
would  probably  have  settled  the  question  against  him, 
but  with  a  deliberate  restraint  that  she  appreciated. 

"I'm  not  in  love  with  you,"  she  said  plainly. 

"I  am  with  you.     That  is  the  important  point." 

"Why?" 

"A  man  should  love  before  marriage.  A  woman 
loves  after." 


88  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"I  have  heard  that  said.  I  am  not  sure  that  I 
believe  it." 

"You  cannot  know  anything  about  it.  You  need 
not  think  about  it.  Let  me  think  for  you  in  this. 
Say  'Yes/  little  cousin,  and  find  out  what  it  means  to 
be  loved." 

In  this  supreme  moment  of  decision  Brenda,  to  her 
surprise,  felt  no  strong  call  either  to  her  cousin  or  away 
from  him.  He  wanted  her  with  every  fibre  of  his  body. 
She  guessed  that  by  his  white  face  and  passionate 
voice:  which  only  moved  her  to  perplexity.  Perhaps, 
as  he  said,  love  would  come  to  her  with  that  mysterious 
fuller  knowledge  life  brings  to  married  women.  He 
seemed  content  to  trust  to  that. 

"Is  it  'Yes/  little  cousin?"  he  asked  again. 

She  looked  round  her  at  the  heaven  in  the  forest,  at 
the  afternoon  lights  slanting  through  the  trees,  and  at 
the  peat-colored  stream  dashing  itself  into  foam  over 
titanic  rocks. 

"This  is  Germany!"  she  cried.  "I'm  English  and 
yet  I  adore  Germany.  I  should  like  to  live  in  an  old 
gabled  house  that  has  low  eaves  and  a  stork's  nest 
on  the  roof." 

Lothar  smiled,  because  in  his  ears  what  she  said 
was  rather  indelicate.  In  Germany  the  stork  brings 
the  baby,  and  no  well-conducted  German  girl  would 
allude  to  this  domestic  bird  at  the  moment  of  betrothal 
when  the  female  mind  is  supposed  to  be  in  moonlight 
regions,  unreal  and  rapturous. 

"It  is  'Yes/  "  he  cried  in  triumph,  and  this  time 
there  was  less  discretion  in  his  kisses. 

"Come,"  he  said  with  decision.  "We  will  seek 
your  father  and  tell  him.  He  will  be  pleased,  I  am 
sure." 

Brenda  was  far  from  sure,  and  her  silence  led  her 
cousin  to  expatiate  on  what  he  had  said. 

"There  are  many  more  women  than  men  in  the 
world,"  he  pointed  out.  "Therefore  it  is  always  a 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  89 

relief  to  a  family  when  a  daughter  makes  a  good  mar- 
riage. I  promise  you  that  your  father  will  be  satisfied 
with  what  I  have  to  offer.  I  do  not  depend  on  my 
profession  or  even  entirely  on  my  father's  allowance. 
I  have  an  income  of  five  thousand  marks  that  an  old 
aunt  left  me  some  years  ago.  But  I  am  sure  that 
money  possesses  no  interest  for  my  little  bride  except 
when  she  wishes  to  buy  herself  a  new  dress.  She  will 
be  thinking  of  her  bridal  nest  in  Berlin  henceforward, 
but  not  of  the  ways  and  means  to  line  it.  Business 
matters  are  best  left  to  men,  and  I  blame  myself  for 
mentioning  them." 

"I  was  not  thinking  of  money,"  said  Brenda.  "I 
don't  suppose  my  father  will  mind  much  if  you  are  not 
well  off.  But  he  will  not  want  me  to  go  out  of 
England.  I  wonder  at  myself  for  being  able  to  do  it. 
Suppose  I  am  homesick?" 

"I  cannot  suppose  anything  so  absurd,"  said  Lothar 
loftily.  "In  future,  wherever  I  am  will  be  your  home." 

"It  has  turned  quite  chilly,"  said  Brenda,  for  a  few 
steps  had  taken  them  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  from  which, 
as  Lothar  had  promised,  there  was  a  fine  view  of  plain 
and  forest.  But  the  glory  of  the  day  had  departed, 
the  sunset  was  cloudy,  and  a  little  breeze  was  astir  on 
these  heights,  threatening  rain. 

"We  will  walk  quickly  and  you  shall  lean  on  my 
arm,"  said  Lothar.  "Then  I  shall  know  that  if  you 
stumble  in  the  twilight  made  by  the  forest  you  will  not 
fall." 

Brenda  took  his  arm,  and  found,  as  she  expected, 
that  to  do  so  impeded  her  progress.  She  could  have 
managed  the  well-kept  level  woodland  path  better  by 
herself.  However,  it  seemed  to  please  him  to  give  her 
a  protection  she  did  not  need,  and  she  supposed  philo- 
sophically that  the  whole  attitude  of  men  to  women  is 
supported  by  such  conventions.  She  knew  that  in 
Germany  the  conventional  attitude  was  firmly  pre- 
served in  all  the  relations  of  life,  and  that  she  would 


90  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

probably  have  to  submit  to  it  in  marriage.  The  idea 
was  not  altogether  pleasing,  for  though  she  had  a 
gentle  nature  she  was  used  to  think  for  herself  and  go 
her  own  way.  Perhaps  she  would  have  to  assert 
herself  on  occasion.  She  hoped  not,  for  with  a  man 
of  Lothar's  temper  contradiction  would  certainly  lead 
to  scenes;  and  Brenda  knew  herself  well  enough  to 
know  that  she  was  a  coward  about  scenes.  She  was 
not  used  to  them  and  hated  even  a  mild  one. 

The  betrothed  pair  did  not  talk  much  as  they  made 
their  way  through  the  wood,  and  it  crossed  Brenda's 
mind  whimsically  that  perhaps  Lothar  was  repenting 
of  what  he  had  done;  but  when  he  spoke  there  was 
no  sign  of  this. 

"Little  cousin!"  he  said  as  they  came  in  sight  of 
the  restaurant.  "Sweet  little  bride!  I  have  a  request 
to  make.  Speak  not  to  Siebert  of  storks." 

"Of  storks !"  echoed  Brenda.  "Why  should  I  speak 
to  Lieutenant  Siebert  of  storks?" 

"I  know  not.  I  only  warn  you  that  in  Germany  a 
young  and  modest  bride  does  not  allude  to  storks." 

Then  from  the  back  of  beyond  in  Brenda's  memory 
came  understanding  and  amusement.  Instead  of  being 
covered  with  maidenly  confusion  she  laughed — laughed 
at  her  bridegroom,  Lothar. 

"I'll  remember,"  she  said  gayly,  for  if  she  felt  vexed 
with  herself  and  him  she  would  not  show  it.  Of  course 
she  understood.  Storks  are  connected  with  babies, 
and  in  a  world  of  convention  you  must  not  admit  the 
existence  of  babies  one  moment,  though  you  are  con- 
sidered unwomanly  the  next  if  you  do  not  adore  them. 

"Have  your  sisters  any  children?"  she  asked,  feeling 
that  he  was  a  little  annoyed  and  wishing  to  placate 
him. 

"My  youngest  sister,  Mina,  has  four.  On  the  last 
occasion  the  stork  presented  her  with  twins.  In  that 
household  it  was  not  an  unmixed  blessing." 

"She  is  the  one  who  married  a  professor.* 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  91 

"Yes.  My  sisters  are  older  than  I  am,  and  I  am 
sorry  to  say  have  both  married  civilians." 

"Don't  you  like  civilians?" 

"I  naturally  prefer  my  own  caste.  But  I  realize 
that  a  nation  must  have  civilians  to  carry  on  trade  and 
do  other  work." 

"Whom  did  your  elder  sister,  Elsa,  marry?" 

Lothar  hesitated  a  moment. 

"When  you  come  to  Berlin  you  will  have  to  know 
it,"  he  said.  "Elsa's  husband  is  a  Jew." 

Brenda  felt  that  the  proper  answer  to  his  tone 
would  have  been  "How  dreadful!"  but  she  did  not 
make  the  proper  answer. 

"Don't  you  like  Jews?"  she  said. 

"I  have  no  intercourse  with  them,"  Lothar  said 
haughtily.  "I  am  glad  to  say  that  there  are  none  in 
my  regiment." 

"But  I  suppose  you  see  your  brother-in-law  ?" 

"Wlien  it  is  necessary." 

"You  seem  to  be  very  exclusive  in  Berlin,"  said 
Brenda. 

"We  are,"  said  Lothar. 


IX 

"T  SHALL  not  ask  your   father   for  you  now," 
Lothar    murmured,    as    they    got    close    to    the 
restaurant.      "I    shall    call    on    him    to-morrow 
morning." 

"But  we  are  going  back  to  Heidelberg  by  an  early 
train,"  said  Brenda. 

"Can  you  not  point  out  that  a  later  one  would  be 
more  convenient  ?" 

"I  should  have  to  give  a  reason." 

"I  have  no  objection  to  that.  He  will  be  the  less 
surprised  when  I  appear." 

It  is  most  difficult  for  a  person  who  is  critical  but 
not  self-assertive  to  stand  up  to  any  one  as  certain  of 
himself  as  Lothar.  Brenda  knew  that  in  his  own 
opinion  the  uniform  he  wore,  his  worldly  possessions, 
and  his  personal  efficiency  made  him  a  match  any 
girl  ought  to  accept  with  delight;  and  that  practically 
every  girl  in  his  own  country  would  indorse  his  view. 
He  would  appear,  as  he  said,  before  her  father,  not 
as  a  suppliant,  but  as  a  bringer  of  good  tidings,  sure 
of  his  welcome. 

"He  may  refuse,"  she  said  from  the  depths  of  her 
meditation.  Lothar  stood  still. 

"Refuse!  Why  should  he  refuse?"  he  cried  with 
such  thunderous  anger  in  his  voice  that  Brenda  wished 
she  had  not  roused  it.  "Am  I  perhaps  not  good 
enough?"  and  it  seemed  to  Brenda  that  his  hand 
went  swiftly  to  his  sword;  but  it  was  half  dark  and 
she  might  have  been  mistaken. 

92 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  93 

"He  is  wedded  to  England,"  she  said  pacifically. 

"Then  let  him  cleave  to  England.  But  you  will 
be  wedded  to  me.  You  have  given  me  your  word. 
A  woman  of  our  race  does  not  go  back  from  it." 

He  stalked  on,  emerging  from  the  dusk  of  the 
woodland  path  into  the  sunset  lights  of  the  late  sum- 
mer afternoon;  and  Brenda  walked  beside  him,  no 
longer  free.  Her  heart  went  out  to  her  father  with 
a  warmth  that  under  the  circumstances  was  disquieting. 
A  girl  who  has  just  promised  herself  in  marriage 
ought  not  to  be  so  extraordinarily  glad  to  see  her 
father  unless  there  is  a  corresponding  gladness  in  her 
soul  about  the  future.  But  the  future  veiled  itself 
when  Brenda  looked  ahead.  She  saw  nothing  but  the 
tall  rigid  figure  of  Lothar  clothed  in  bluish  gray, 
carrying  a  sword. 

"I  want  to  speak  to  you,  father,"  she  said  when  they 
got  back  to  the  hotel  and  were  by  themselves.  "Come 
into  my  room.  There  is  a  comfortable  chair  there." 

"Do  you  mind  if  I  smoke?"  said  Mr.  Miiller, 
following  her. 

To  his  surprise  and  perturbation,  instead  of  answer- 
ing his  question  in  a  reasonable  way,  Brenda,  after 
shutting  the  door,  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck  and 
kissed  him  as  if  she  had  not  seen  him  for  several 
weeks;  as  if,  for  instance,  he  had  just  come  back 
from  a  long  business  journey  when  a  man  expects  his 
women  folk  to  receive  him  with  a  little  extra  warmth 
and  his  Liebspiese  for  dinner. 

"What  is  it  then,  Brenda?"  he  said,  disengaging 
himself.  "What  is  it,  my  child?" 

"Oh!  Father,  I'm  going  to  be  married,"  cried 
Brenda. 

Mr.  Miiller  looked  neither  surprised  nor  pleased,  but 
unusually  serious ;  and  he  didn't  speak. 

"You  guess  who  it  is,"  said  Brenda. 

"Naturally  I  guess,"  said  Mr.  Miiller.  "I  cannot 
suppose  that  you  are  going  to  marry  the  little  lieu- 


94  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

tenant,  although  of  the  two  men  we  have  been  with 
to-day  I  greatly  prefer  him." 

"You  don't  like  Lothar?" 

"I  am  sure  that  he  is  a  good  officer." 

"That  means  certain  valuable  qualities." 

"Undoubtedly." 

Brenda,  who  was  still  standing  beside  her  father, 
gave  a  little  sigh. 

"Grandmamma  and  great-grandmamma  will  be  de- 
lighted," she  pointed  out.  "They  consider  him  a  sort 
of  Olympian  god." 

"I  wish  your  mother  was  here,"  said  Mr.  Miiller. 
"I  have  always  thought  a  great  deal  of  her  opinion." 

"But,  father!  There  is  nothing  against  Lothar, 
is  there?" 

"Nothing  whatever!  He  has  some  money  and  a 
sufficiently  good  position.  Your  sister  married  a 
poorer  man." 

He  waited  a  little,  weighing  his  words;  and  then 
he  added:  "But  I  was  better  pleased." 

"He  is  coming  to  see  you  to-morrow  morning," 
said  Brenda.  "He  wants  us  to  take  a  later  train  sc 
that  you  can  receive  him." 

"Why  can't  he  come  to  Heidelberg  to  see  me?" 

"He  is  tied  here  most  of  the  week.  He  works  very 
hard." 

"Then  let  him  wait  till  he  is  not  tied.  What  is  he 
doing  here  in  Baden?  His  regiment  is  in  Berlin, 
isn't  it  ?  What  was  he  doing  in  England  last  summer  ? 
Why  didn't  he  come  to  see  us?" 

"He  is  not  a  man  who  talks  about  his  work,"  said 
Brenda.  "You  know  that  officers  are  seconded  some- 
times and  sent  on  this  and  that  errand.  You  know 
that  Jack  was  sent  to  Germany  last  year  and  Dendy 
has  been  to  India." 

"Well  ...  I  don't  see  why  we  should  alter  our 
plans.  There  is  no  hurry,  is  there?" 

"I  suppose  he  thinks  there  is." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  95 

In  the  end  the  young  people  had  their  way.  Mr. 
Miiller  agreed  to  take  an  afternoon  train  back  to 
Heidelberg  and  to  see  Lothar  when  he  came  at  midday 
to  make  his  formal  offer  of  marriage.  He  spent  an 
anxious  hour  before  his  nephew  arrived,  because  he 
did  not  want  Brenda  to  marry  this  man  and  knew  of 
no  way  to  prevent  it.  From  a  worldly  point  of  view 
the  alliance  was  suitable,  and  none  of  his  reasons 
against  it  were  of  the  kind  that  are  valuable  in  argu- 
ment. However,  he  resolved  to  do  his  best  with  one 
or  two  of  them.  He  could  not  speak  his  mind.  He 
could  not  say  to  Lothar,  "I  consider  you  an  arrogant, 
hostile  alien,  with  truculent  manners  and  a  bad  temper, 
and  I  wish  my  daughter  would  not  marry  you."  That 
is  no  doubt  what  he  felt,  but  he  felt  it  inexpressively, 
as  rather  simple-minded  men  do  feel  what  is  wrong 
with  others.  His  objection  to  Lothar  was  not 
founded  on  what  he  called  facts,  because  in  his  opinion 
you  must  be  able  to  touch  a  fact  or  at  any  rate 
produce  it  in  a  court  of  law.'  Unfortunately,  Lothar's 
facts  were  not  all  of  this  patent  kind. 

"Brenda  has  told  you  of  my  errand,"  he  said,  as 
he  sat  down  opposite  Mr.  Miiller  and  observed  that  he 
looked  glum. 

"Yes.  She  has  told  me,"  said  Mr.  Muller.  "It 
is  a  matter  about  which  I  should  like  to  consult  my 
wife." 

Lothar  stared  in  surprise. 

"I  have  come  here  to  ask  you  for  the  hand  of  your 
daughter,"  he  said  stiffly.  "I  am  in  a  position  to 
marry.  I  have  a  private  income  of  £250  a  year, 
besides  an  allowance  from  my  father,  and  when  my 
parents  die  I  shall  have  a  great  deal  more.  My 
position  in  the  army  will  give  my  wife  a  better  position 
socially  than  any  marriage  in  the  commercial  or 
professional  world  could  do.  We  shall  live  in  Berlin, 
the  most  agreeable  and  cultured  capital  in  Europe. 
I  cannot  imagine  on  what  subject  you  require  your 


96  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

wife's  advice.  Brenda  and  I  understand  each  other, 
and  there  are  no  material  obstacles  in  the  way  of  our 
happiness." 

"Have  you  reflected  that,  if  you  marry  Brenda, 
you  marry  an  Englishwoman?"  said  Mr.  Miiller. 

"When  she  marries  she  will  be  a  German.  A 
woman  takes  her  husband's  nationality.  Besides,  if 
blood  counts,  she  is  German  now." 

"I  should  say  that  she  is  English  with  every  breath 
of  her  body.  All  my  children  are." 

"Yet  she  is  called  Miiller." 

"The  English  Ambassador  is  called  Goschen.  The 
Austrian  Ambassador  is  Bunsen.  England  makes 
many  men  her  own." 

"Can  you  explain  it?" 

"It  would  take  a  long  time,"  said  Mr.  Miiller,  and 
did  not  begin.  His  thoughts  just  then  were  fixed  on 
his  responsibility  to  his  child  and  his  fears  for  her 
happiness. 

"I  suppose  Brenda  will  bring  something  to  the 
exchequer,"  said  Lothar,  breaking  in  on  the  older 
man's  reverie.  "You  will  give  her  a  dowry?" 

"Brenda  will  have  ten  thousand  pounds.  That  is 
what  I  give  each  child  at  marriage.  It  is  put  into 
settlement  in  the  English  way." 

"In  Germany  the  income  is  paid  to  the  husband," 
said  Lothar. 

"Thekla's  income  is  paid  to  her,"  said  Mr.  Miiller. 

"But  a  system  of  that  kind  might  lead  to  dissension 
between  a  husband  and  wife.  I  do  not  approve  of 
it" 

"Then  marry  a  German,"  said  Mr.  Miiller. 

Lothar  felt  that  his  reception  was  not  what  his 
deserts  led  him  to  expect,  and  his  manner  became  less 
conciliatory. 

"Brenda  said  you  would  not  rejoice  over  my 
proposal,"  he  said;  "she  did  not  explain  why.  Nor 
do  you.  I  suppose  you  wish  your  daughter  to  marry?" 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  97 

"If  it  is  for  her  happiness." 

"She  will  be  happy  with  me.    Why  not?" 

In  Mr.  Miiller's  opinion  the  young  man's  tone  was 
offensively  condescending  and  superior.  He  knew 
that  from  Lothar's  point  of  view  his  own  civil  calling 
and  civil  clothes  placed  him  at  an  enormous  disadvan- 
tage, but  as  he  did  not  share  his  nephew's  point  of 
view  he  felt  exasperated. 

"I  have  told  you  why  not  as  well  as  I  can,"  he 
said.  "If  Brenda  really  wishes  to  marry  you,  I  shall 
not  refuse  my  consent;  but  I  shall  give  it  unwillingly. 
I  would  rather  keep  her  in  England." 

"I  should  like  to  see  Brenda,"  replied  Lothar. 
"She  gave  me  her  word  yesterday.  I  shall  hold  her 
to  it  if  I  can." 

"Why  are  you  so  anxious  to  marry  her?" 

"I  am  passionately  in  love  with  her,"  said  Lothar. 

That  crude  inquiry  and  that  elemental  confession 
seemed  to  clear  the  air.  From  the  young  man's 
armor  of  conceit  and  pride  there  peeped  a  human 
quality  that  might  regenerate  him.  If  Brenda  loved 
him,  perhaps  she  might  both  bear  with  him  and  im- 
prove him.  Mr.  Miiller,  having  no  valid  objections 
to  bring  forward,  felt  driven  to  yield.  This  pretender 
to  the  hand  of  his  child  was  sober,  prosperous,  of  good 
report,  sound  in  mind  and  body,  and  presumably 
agreeable  to  her.  What  could  a  beleaguered  father 
do  but  give  his  blessing  to  a  union  he  nevertheless 
distrusted  and  disliked? 

"If  Brenda  insists  on  keeping  her  word  she  shall 
do  it,"  he  said  slowly.  "But  if  she  has  changed  her 
mind  she  shall  go  free.  I  will  find  out  if  she  wishes 
to  see  you,  but  I  shall  tell  her  to  do  exactly  as  she 
pleases." 

He  went  out  of  the  room  and  found  Brenda  upstairs, 
contemplating  an  arrangement  in  red  and  white  roses 
of  two  large  intertwined  hearts  which  had  just  been 
to  her  from  a  florist's  shop  accompanied  by 


98  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Lothar's  card.  Mr.  Miiller  looked  at  the  flowers  and 
then  at  his  daughter. 

"He  wishes  to  see  you,"  he  said. 

"Have  you  settled  anything?" 

"I  have  settled  that  you  are  to  do  as  you  please. 
If  you  regret  having  given  him  your  promise,  you 
must  say  so  without  fear,  in  my  presence.  I  am  not 
going  to  have  you  bullied  into  marrying  him." 

"I  don't  think  he  has  deserved  that,"  said  Brenda. 
"I  believe  he  is  in  love  with  me." 

"I  believe  that,  too,  but  love  is  not  always  enough." 

"I  thought  it  was." 

"Well  .  .  .  there  are  different  kinds.  Besides, 
some  last  and  some  don't.  There  is  a  good  deal  of 
wear  and  tear  even  in  a  happy  marriage." 

"You  and  mother  don't  wear  and  tear  each  other." 

"I  wish  your  mother  was  here,"  said  Mr.  Miiller. 

"I'll  see  Lothar,"  said  Brenda,  and  went  down  to 
her  cousin  by  herself. 

The  result  was  what  might  have  been  expected. 
Two  agitated  young  people  appeared  before  him  half 
an  hour  later  and  told  him  that  they  had  decided 
finally  to  take  each  other  for  better,  for  worse.  Lothar 
was  so  patently  in  love  and  in  such  a  good  humor 
that  he  made  a  better  impression  on  Mr.  Miiller  than 
he  had  ever  done  before,  and  Brenda  assured  her 
father  in  an  aside  that  she  would  find  her  happiness 
in  making  a  man  who  adored  her  happy.  There  was 
not  much  time  for  doubts  or  further  discussion. 
Lothar  gave  them  a  sybarite  lunch  and  after  lunch 
took  Brenda  to  a  jeweler's,  where  he  bought  her  two 
rings,  one  of  plain  gold  and  one  set  with  diamonds. 

"With  the  gold  one  I  shall  wed  thee,  dearest  heart," 
he  whispered.  "I  know  that  in  England  you  will 
wear  the  diamond  one  as  the  sign  of  our  betrothal." 

It  was  when  Brenda  got  back  to  Heidelberg  that 
afternoon  that  the  full  glory  of  her  position  became 
plain  to  her.  Grandmamma  and  great-grandmamma 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  99 

rejoiced  over  her  as  if  her  news  opened  the  gates  of 
Paradise.  They  were  moved  to  tears  and  then  to 
laughter  and  then  to  tears  again.  They  admired  the 
diamond  ring,  but  they  did  not  approve  of  it  as  an 
emblem.  They  wanted  Brenda  to  wear  the  plain 
gold  one  on  her  left  hand  till  her  wedding-day,  when 
her  bridegroom  with  the  benediction  of  the  Church 
would  transfer  it  to  the  right,  the  proper  place  for  a 
legitimately  married  wife  to  wear  it.  They  wished 
Brenda  could  be  married  in  Heidelberg,  so  that  her 
man  could  meet  her  at  the  altar  in  his  uniform ;  though 
they  hastened  to  add  that  even  in  civil  clothes  Lothar 
would  always  cut  a  fine  figure.  How  fortunate  that 
Brenda  had  come  to  Germany  and  met  her  cousin 
again.  What  pleasure  the  news  would  give  her 
mother!  They  were  surprised  to  hear  that  Mr. 
Miiller  had  not  telegraphed,  but  was  going  to  write. 
Such  deliberation  seemed  cold-blooded.  They  im- 
plored Brenda  to  stay  on  in  Heidelberg,  get  her  bride- 
groom to  come  over  again  and  be  entertained  together 
by  those  wreaths  and  poems  and  feastings  that  a 
betrothed  pair  in  Germany  expects  of  its  family  and 
friends.  But  Mr.  Miiller  could  not  wait  on  in  Heidel- 
berg and  did  not  dream  of  leaving  Brenda  behind  him. 
He  had  to  be  back  in  London,  he  said,  and  his  wife 
would  be  anxious  to  see  her  daughter  after  getting 
the  news. 

"But  when  will  the  happy  bride  become  a  happy 
wife?"  asked  grandmamma.  "It  is  a  pity  that  she 
must  pass  her  bride-time  so  far  from  her  beloved,  and 
in  a  foreign  land." 

"When  two  hearts  have  found  each  other  distance 
matters  not,"  said  great-grandmamma.  "Put  no 
thoughts  of  sadness  into  the  child's  head,  Bertha. 
He  has  chosen  her.  How  can  she  be  sad  knowing 
that  she  is  his  bride?  The  time  will  pass  quickly  till 
he  goes  to  claim  her,  for  she  must  be  busy  with  her 
needle  from  morning  till  night.  Even  if  her  mother 


loo  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

has  stores  of  linen  ready  for  her,  there  will  be  the 
wedding-gown  to  make  and  perhaps  the  veil  to  em- 
broider." 

"I  should  like  to  give  Brenda  the  big  tablecloth 
and  the  twenty-four  napkins  belonging  to  it  for  which 
you  spun  the  thread  before  your  own  wedding,"  said 
grandmamma.  "They  are  as  good  as  new  and  we 
never  use  them.  Brenda  can  embroider  her  own  initials 
after  yours  and  mine  on  them." 

"I  should  also  like  to  give  Brenda  the  lace  that  I 
wore  on  my  wedding-day,"  said  great-grandmamma. 
"My  father  bought  it  for  my  mother  in  Brussels  after 
the  battle  of  Waterloo." 

Dear  grandmamma  and  great-grandmamma! 
Brenda  bid  them  good-bye  with  tender  affection  and 
regret,  and  wondered  whether  it  was  just  the  lapse 
of  years  that  separated  her  from  them.  Their  senti- 
ments were  so  simple,  their  claims  on  life  so  small, 
and  their  virtuous  days  so  contented.  She  was  too 
modern  to  follow  them  and  too  thoughtful  to  call 
their  lives  empty;  for  how  can  lives  be  empty  that 
are  filled  to  overflowing  with  happiness  and  affection? 
Brenda  had  not  made  up  her  mind  about  the  great 
problems  of  life  with  all  the  assurance  usual  to  her 
years,  but  she  was  inclined  to  think  that  the  Blue  Bird 
cannot  be  bought  or  bullied  or  deceived.  It  comes, 
it  goes,  it  eludes,  it  loves  the  rich  as  well  as  the  humble, 
it  only  flutters  near  some  natures  too  complex  to  hold 
it  fast.  She  had  hitherto  been  happy,  she  supposed, 
in  a  quiet  everyday  fashion,  but  was  she  going  to  be 
henceforward?  She  did  not  find  that  looking  at  her 
golden  ring  reassured  her  as  completely  as  it  did  the 
bride  in  the  poem,  but  she  tried  to  believe  that  her 
doubts  and  fears  were  common  to  girls  who  have  been 
snatched  aloft  as  if  by  a  whirlwind  and  then  set  down 
in  the  flats  of  life  again  until  it  is  time  for  the 
whirlwind  to  reappear. 

Mrs.  Miiller  received  her  daughter  with  affectionate 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  101 

sympathy,  and  said  nothing  to  show  that  she  disap- 
proved of  her  engagement  to  Lothar.  She  evidently 
expected  Uncle  Wilhelm  to  raise  difficulties,  but  when 
letters  from  Berlin  arrived  they  were  not  as  disagree- 
able as  they  might  have  been.  Herr  Erdmann  said 
that  his  son  was  old  enough  to  know  his  own  mind, 
and  that  if  he  chose  to  marry  a  foreigner  no  one  could 
prevent  it.  He  even  admitted  that  Lothar  might  have 
made  a  worse  choice,  as  at  any  rate  Brenda  had  been 
brought  up  by  a  German  mother  and  must  be  ex- 
pected to  possess  some  of  the  virtues  the  women  of 
his  race  monopolized.  He  proposed  to  come  over 
with  his  wife  for  the  wedding,  and  promised  to  present 
the  young  couple  with  the  silver  spoons  and  forks 
necessary  to  their  comfort.  His  wife  wrote,  too,  and 
hoped  that  when  Brenda  ordered  her  trousseau  she 
would  remember  where  her  future  home  would  be, 
and  not  fill  her  trunks  with  decolletee  dresses  she 
could  never  wear.  Berlin  was  now  the  most  elegant 
and  luxurious  city  in  the  world,  but  it  would  never 
throw  back  to  the  ridiculous  English  fashion  of  putting 
on  a  ball  costume  in  order  to  eat  sausage  and  salad 
for  supper.  Frau  Erdmann  also  took  for  granted 
that  Lothar  had  come  to  some  agreement  with  his 
uncle  about  the  furniture.  The  household  linen  Brenda 
would,  of  course,  bring  with  her,  for,  lost  to  Germany 
as  the  family  was,  it  must  still  be  known  to  them 
that  wherever  the  German  eagle  spreads  its  wings  the 
bride  provides  the  linen. 

"Did  Lothar  come  to  an  agreement  with  you  about 
the  furniture?"  asked  Brenda,  rather  depressed  by 
the  tone  of  both  letters. 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Miiller,  "but  I  shall  not  haggle 
with  them.  In  Germany  the  bride  usually  furnishes 
the  house  and  always  provides  the  linen." 

"But  what  happens  when  the  man  has  money  and 
the  girl  has  none?" 

"The  marriage  doesn't  happen  as  a  rule." 


102  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"They  don't  seem  over-pleased  about  Lothar  and 
me,"  said  Brenda.  "I  suppose  they  wanted  him  to 
marry  a  German." 

"No  doubt,"  said  Mr.  Muller. 

"You  must  become  as  German  as  you  can,"  said 
Mrs.  Muller. 

"But  I  should  like  to  make  my  house  as  English  as 
possible,"  said  Brenda.  "Can  I  get  my  furniture 
here?" 

It  was  settled  that  she  could  and  she  wrote  to  tell 
Lothar  that  she  was  choosing  everything  for  their 
future  home  in  London  and  that  she  wished  he  could 
come  over  and  help  her.  He  answered  rather  unami- 
ably  that  in  his  opinion  furniture  could  be  bought 
better  in  Berlin  than  in  London,  as  all  the  newest  and 
most  artistic  designs  were  to  be  found  there;  but 
that  if  Brenda,  whose  father  was  paying  for  the  stuff, 
wished  to  buy  articles  lacking  in  taste  and  novelty  she 
must  choose  them  without  him.  He  would  only  get 
four  weeks'  leave,  and  did  not  dream  of  wasting  any 
of  it  in  furniture  shops.  He  proposed  to  arrive  two 
days  before  the  marriage,  and  hoped  to  find  everything 
would  be  in  order  for  the  civil  ceremony,  which  in  his 
opinion  was  more  important  than  the  theatrical  re- 
ligious one  to  which  women  attached  weight.  Brenda 
did  not  show  this  letter  to  anybody,  but  she  went 
about  the  business  of  choosing  her  furniture  with  a 
subdued  air  that  Violet  who  usually  went  with  her, 
noticed. 

"She  doesn't  feel  a  bit  as  I  did  when  I  married 
you,"  she  said  to  Jem.  "She  isn't  bubbling  over  with 
joy  and  excitement." 

"I  can't  think  what  possesses  her  to  do  it,"  said 
Jem,  who  had  heard  of  his  sister's  engagement  with 
amazement  and  thought  of  her  marriage  with  concern. 

"I  believe  she  is  in  love  with  an  idea,"  said  Violet, 
"a  childish  romantic  idea  of  Germany.  She  always 
has  been.  She  sees  it  as  a  country  of  moonshine  and 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  103 

fairy  tales  and  adorable  simplicit}'.  Brenda  is  a 
darling,  you  know,  Jem;  but  she  hasn't  cut  her 
wisdom  teeth  yet.  Why  didn't  she  marry  Andrew?" 

"Did  he  ask  her?" 

"I've  no  idea.  He  may  have  thought  that  as  he 
had  no  money  .  .  ." 

"But  were  they  in  love  with  each  other?" 

"Yes.     They  were." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"I  knew  that  night  when  Brenda  came  out  into  the 
garden  to  meet  us.  Any  one  not  blind  as  a  bat  could 
see.  Mother  saw  plainly." 

"Then  why  is  Andrew  such  a  silly  ass?  Why 
did  he  go  to  New  Zealand?" 

"How  could  he  marry,  Jem,  on  an  uncertain 
hundred  a  year?  He  was  quite  right,  and  yet  I 
wish  .  .  ." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Jem;  "I've  no  faith  in  this 
fellow." 

"I've  not  even  seen  his  photograph,  and  Brenda 
tells  me  nothing.  What  kind  is  he  ?" 

"A  kind  I  can't  stick,"  said  Jem  with  that  inability 
to  give  reasons  for  his  likes  and  dislikes  that  simplifies 
and  blights  discussion. 

Brenda  tried  not  to  think  of  Andrew  nowadays, 
but  her  thoughts  were  not  always  obedient.  She 
wondered  whether,  when  he  heard  of  her  marriage, 
he  would  heave  a  sigh  or  whether  his  silence  had  meant 
that  he  was  not  sure  of  himself.  It  was  fatally  easy 
not  to  be  sure  of  yourself  just  when  you  ought  to  be. 
Brenda  looked  at  the  future  with  considerable  mis- 
givings and  wished  that  Yes  did  not  mean  so  much  in 
some  cases.  She  liked  the  idea  of  going  to  Germany 
for  a  long  time  and  of  making  an  interior  that  should 
have  all  the  charm  of  both  countries.  She  liked  the 
prospect  of  German  opera  and  German  chamber- 
music  all  the  year  round,  she  looked  forward  to  long 
dreamy  summers  in  quaint  old-world  forest  villages 


104  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

where  geese  waddled  along  dusty  roads  and  young 
storks  looked  wisely  from  their  nests  on  high  church 
towers.  She  pictured  a  German  winter  as  a  glittering 
carnival  of  snow  and  sleighs  and  clear  frosty  air,  with 
an  interlude  of  Christmas  trees  and  queer-shaped 
Christmas  sweets  and  cakes.  All  this  she  would  enjoy. 
But  would  she  enjoy  the  constant  companionship  and 
domination  of  Lothar?  Would  his  passion  for  her 
so  transmute  his  nature  that  he  would  become  for- 
bearing and  sympathetic?  If  not,  what  would  her 
life  be?  for  though  she  hated  quarrels  she  loved 
independence  and  had  been  used  to  it,  especially 
independence  of  thought  and  feeling. 

"I  suppose  that  in  marriage  there  must  be  give 
and  take,"  she  said  to  her  mother  one  day.  "I  suppose 
that  imperceptibly  you  grow  towards  each  other  and 
hardly  know  whose  influence  is  paramount." 

"In  a  happy  marriage  it  must  be  so,"  said  Mrs. 
Miiller. 

"An  unhappy  marriage  must  be  unbearable,"  said 
Brenda. 


LOTHAR  wrote  to  Brenda  twice  a  week.  His 
letters  were  full  of  his  burning  love  and  his 
impatience  for  their  marriage.  They  were  a 
great  support  to  Brenda,  because  she  felt  sure  that 
love  begets  love.  At  least  she  tried  to  feel  sure.  She 
had  no  time  for  prolonged  qualms  about  the  future. 
In  six  weeks  she  had  to  buy  a  trousseau  of  German 
size  and  thoroughness,  choose  furniture  for  her  new 
home  and  help  with  the  arrangements  for  her  wedding. 
From  morning  till  night  she  was  in  shops,  in  fitting- 
rooms  or  at  the  writing-table.  It  was  amusing  till 
it  became  oppressive;  but  by  the  time  she  longed 
for  a  day's  rest  she  could  not  get  it.  So  when  she 
put  on  one  of  her  new  gowns  to  meet  Lothar  and  his 
parents  at  Charing  Cross  she  perceived  that  she  looked 
paler  and  thinner  than  usual.  Nevertheless,  as  she 
waited  on  the  platform  with  her  father,  she  was  a 
conspicuously  elegant  and  charming  figure,  for  she 
knew  how  to  wear  her  clothes,  how  to  do  her  hair 
and  how  to  put  on  a  hat  and  veil.  She  wore  a  dark 
blue  coat  and  skirt  with  a  little  embroidered  waistcoat 
that  genius  had  designed.  Above  the  waistcoat  you 
saw  a  little  of  her  fine  lace  blouse  and  the  row  of  pearls 
her  father  had  given  her  on  her  birthday.  Her  hat 
was  slightly  tilted  and  had  no  trimming  but  a  prancing 
note  of  interrogation  and  a  veil.  She  wore  pale  gray 
gloves  and  very  good  gray  suede  shoes.  Her  sunshade 
was  one  of  her  wedding-presents  and  had  a  costly 

105 


106  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

handle  of  real  jade.  In  fact,  she  looked  like  London, 
the  London  that  in  its  own  way  knows  as  well  as 
Paris  or  Vienna  how  to  dress  itself;  and  the  com- 
bined effect  of  what  she  wore  was  quiet  but  rather 
worldly.  She  did  not  look  in  the  least  like  her 
thoughts,  which  were  anxious  and  shrinking;  and 
her  father  had  no  idea  that  she  was  in  two  minds 
whether  to  stay  and  face  the  music  or  run  away  and 
hide  till  the  guests  they  were  to  meet  had  departed 
again.  But  it  is  easier  to  think  of  hiding  than  to  do 
it,  and  at  any  rate  Brenda,  who  hated  scenes  and 
fusses,  could  not  bring  herself  to  go.  She  stayed 
silently  beside  her  father,  looking  rather  white  and 
feeling  rather  depressed. 

"There  they  are!"  said  Mr.  Miiller,  when  the  train 
moved  slowly  in,  and  Brenda  followed  him  to  the 
carriage  from  which  Lothar,  in  civil  clothes,  was 
helping  a  tall,  stout  elderly  woman  wearing  a  shiny 
alpaca  traveling  cloak  and  an  impossible  hat  several 
sizes  too  small  for  her  and  unsuitably  saucy  in  shape. 
Behind  her  came  Uncle  Wilhelm,  and  he  had  not 
altered  at  all,  for  he  arrived  in  England  as  he  had  left 
it  three  years  ago,  out  of  temper. 

Directly  Lothar  saw  Brenda  he  kissed  her  as  warmly 
as  you  can  kiss  any  one  through  a  veil,  and  then, 
keeping  her  hand  tightly  in  his,  turned  to  his  mother 
and  said — 

"Little  Mamma,  I  bring  thee  my  beloved  bride." 

With  quite  unreasonable  intensity,  Brenda  felt  that 
she  did  not  want  to  be  brought.  She  hated  shiny 
alpaca  coats,  and  the  woman  appraising  her  with  a 
chilly  eye  looked  like  a  mountain  of  all  the  disagree- 
able virtues.  She  looked  like  her  ungracious  letters 
and  like  Uncle  Wilhelm's  trumpet  blasts  when  he  blew 
praises  of  her  thrift  and  industry. 

"I  hope  you  have  had  a  pleasant  journey?"  said 
Brenda. 

"We  have  had  a  most  unpleasant  one,"  snapped 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  107 

Frau  Erdmann.  "Have  you  not  observed  that  there 
is  a  wind?" 

"In  London  .  .  ."  began  Brenda. 

"I  have  only  just  arrived  in  London.  We  have 
been  on  the  sea,  and  when  the  wind  blows  the  English 
Channel  is  rough." 

"I  suppose  it  is." 

"And  when  the  sea  is  rough  I  am  sick." 

"I'm  so  sorry,"  murmured  Brenda.  "Was  Uncle 
Wilhelm  sick  too?" 

"Of  course  he  was  sick.  Don't  you  see  how  green 
he  looks?  We  both  suffer  with  our  stomachs,  which 
are  not  normal." 

By  this  time  Uncle  Wilhelm  was  ready  to  turn  his 
attention  to  Brenda,  while  Mr.  Miiller  and  Lothar 
went  off  with  a  porter  to  get  the  luggage.  Lothar  was 
to  sleep  at  Jem's  house  in  Kensington  Square,  but 
it  had  been  arranged  that  he  was  to  dine  in  Avenue 
Road  to-night  in  order  to  see  as  much  as  he  could  of 
Brenda.  Jem  had  promised  to  fetch  him  in  his  car 
after  dinner. 

"You  are  paler  and  thinner  than  you  were  three 
years  ago,"  said  Herr  Erdmann.  "I  suppose  it  is 
London  life  that  destroys  a  girl's  bloom  at  an  early 
age.  In  this  light  I  should  take  you  for  at  least 
twenty-five." 

Brenda  could  not  think  of  anything  to  say  in  answer, 
so  she  changed  the  subject. 

"I'm  sorry  you've  had  a  rough  crossing,"  she  began. 

"Don't  speak  of  it,"  said  Uncle  Wilhelm  with  a 
shudder.  "My  stomach  is  not  normal.  It  will  take 
me  several  days  to  recover,  and  then  it  will  be  time 
to  go  back.  I  should  not  have  come,  but  my  wife 
insisted.  She  has  the  intellect  of  a  man,  but  where 
Lothar  is  concerned  she  is  wax.  I  only  hope  that  you 
will  be  able  to  conquer  her  lifelong  antipathy  to 
everything  English." 

Brenda  hoped  so,  too,  but  felt  uncertain.     Frau 


io8  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Erdmann  showed  no  sign  of  thawing  to  her  son's 
Braut  on  the  way  home,  but  leaned  back  in  the  car 
with  her  eyes  shut  while  she  gave  vent  to  inarticulate 
sounds  suggestive  of  internal  sufferings.  When  she 
got  to  Avenue  Road  her  large  presence  seemed  to  fill 
the  hall  and  overwhelm  the  slight  trim  figure  of  her 
hostess,  who  listened  with  a  polite  but  twinkling  eye 
to  the  narrative  of  her  sister-in-law's  Odyssey.  The 
train  had  been  overcrowded,  sleep  had  been  impossible, 
food  uneatable,  dust  phenomenal,  heat  unbearable, 
and  the  waves  of  the  Channel  mountains  high.  But 
these  were  trials  that  sank  to  nothing  in  comparison 
with  what  they  had  endured  at  Dover,  where  they 
had  been  unable  to  procure  strong  bouillon  although 
every  intelligent  person  knew  that  after  a  sea  journey 
strong  bouillon  was  necessary  even  to  normal  stomachs. 
What  then  must  the  absence  of  it  inflict  on  those  whose 
digestive  organs  were  abnormally  sensitive  and  deli- 
cate. 

"Perhaps  you  would  like  to  go  to  bed  instead  of 
coming  down  to  dinner?"  said  Mrs.  Miiller  with  the 
best  intentions. 

"I  should  not  like  it  at  all,"  said  Frau  Erdmann 
angrily.  "I  know  that  in  England  hospitality  is  not 
understood  as  we  understand  it;  but  I  suppose  that 
after  traveling  day  and  night  to  see  you  I  may  be 
allowed  something  to  eat.  Otherwise  we  will  go 
straight  to  an  hotel." 

"Do  not  get  so  excited,  Sophie,"  interposed  her 
husband.  "Of  course,  you  will  have  something  to 
eat  in  my  sister's  house.  You  will  feel  much  better 
after  a  good  dinner." 

"A  strong  bouillon  is  all  I  require,"  announced 
Frau  Erdmann,  and  waddled  upstairs  to  the  room 
appointed  to  her.  There  was  a  little  trouble  about 
an  open  window  and  an  insufficiency  of  pillows  and 
eiderdowns  which  Mrs.  Miiller  soon  set  right,  and 
then  there  was  peace  in  the  house  till  the  dinner-gong 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  109 

sounded.  This  brought  the  Erdmanns  straight  into 
the  dining-room,  while  the  Miillers  innocently  waited 
for  them  in  the  drawing-room,  and  when  they  met 
Frau  Erdmann  was  in  a  state  of  offence  again.  She 
had  not  been  told  to  go  first  to  the  drawing-room,  she 
said,  and  she  could  not  be  expected  to  guess  that  even 
in  England  anybody  was  ridiculous  enough  to  enter 
one  room  when  the  business  of  the  moment  was  to  eat 
in  another.  Such  ways  might  be  very  well  at  court, 
but  not  in  a  plain  burgher  household,  and  at  her  age 
she  could  not  be  troubled  to  observe  them.  She  had 
her  own  ideas  of  what  was  sittlich  and  did  not  require 
any  lessons  in  behavior  from  a  country  that  had  the 
most  dirty  and  ignorant  working  classes  in  the  world. 
She  had  asked  for  strong  bouillon,  but  this  soup  was 
made  with  cream  and  therefore  unsuitable  to  her 
digestion.  She  would  wait  for  the  fish,  although 
she  regretted  that  it  was  to  be  sole  and  not  salmon. 
She  thought  that  in  England  people  could  offer  their 
guests  salmon  without  any  undue  strain  on  their 
pockets,  but  no  doubt  she  was  mistaken,  since  it  was 
not  forthcoming ;  for  Marie  must  know  that  Wilhelm 
ate  salmon  with  enthusiasm. 

So  the  dinner  proceeded,  and  Brenda  observed  that 
both  her  uncle  and  aunt  ate  largely,  although  they 
criticized  everything  except  the  wine,  which  was 
German.  At  dessert  they  drank  port,  but  complained 
that  it  was  heavy  and  probably  bad  for  the  liver. 
After  dinner  Frau  Erdmann  said  that  the  English 
climate  was  very  damp  and  chilly,  and  that  unless 
Marie  lighted  a  fire  she  would  probably  spend  the 
night  screaming  with  rheumatism.  She  said  this  as 
the  three  ladies  moved  towards  the  drawing-room 
where  a  fire  was  burning ;  and  though  the  sight  of  it 
cheered  her,  she  reflected,  as  she  sat  down  beside  it, 
that  in  a  plain  burgher  household  fires  in  August 
were  extravagant. 

"Jf  you,  bring  these  ide^s,  ^ith  you,  my  poor  son 


I  io  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

will  be  ruined,"  she  said  to  Brenda,  who  had  knelt 
down  beside  the  fire  and  put  on  a  log  from  a  basket 
close  by. 

"I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  get  used  to  stoves,"  said 
Brenda. 

"They  are  more  agreeable  and  more  practical,"  said 
Frau  Erdmann.  "This  kind  of  grate  gives  the  mini- 
mum of  warmth  with  the  maximum  of  dirt.  It  would 
not  suit  us.  We  like  cleanliness  and  comfort." 

"When  I  got  the  news  of  Lothar's  engagement  I 
became  unconscious,"  she  continued,  turning  to  Mrs. 
Miiller.  "Never!  Never!  I  murmured  to  my  daugh- 
ters, who  were  both  supporting  me.  Lothar  cannot 
have  chosen  an  Englishwoman." 

"Don't  you  like  Englishwomen?"  asked  Brenda. 

"What  is  there  to  like  in  them?  I  have  seen 
hundreds  abroad  and  they  are  all  exactly  the  same. 
They  dress  abominably  and  get  hot  over  games  and 
behave  as  if  the  world  belongs  to  them.  They  have 
no  Kultur." 

Brenda  looked  at  her  future  mother-in-law  and 
tried  to  understand  the  state  of  mind  of  a  woman 
who,  looking  as  she  did  and  behaving  as  she  did,  could 
still  talk  of  manners  and  civilization.  Frau  Erdmann 
wore  a  high-necked  brown  satin  gown  trimmed  with 
Paisley  embroideries  and  grotesquely  cut  in  a  clumsy 
caricature  of  the  prevailing  mode.  It  had  no  doubt 
cost  a  good  deal,  for  the  satin  was  of  a  heavy  quality, 
but  it  was  conspicuously  ugly  and  unbecoming.  So 
was  the  lady's  coiffure',  for  she  wore  her  thin  sandy 
hair  in  smooth  early  Victorian  wings  over  her  ears, 
while  at  the  top  of  her  head  she  had  a  coil  of  false 
plaits  that  did  not  pretend  to  match.  She  wore  a 
heavy  watch  chain,  a  valuable  diamond  brooch  and 
gold  bangles;  and  her  large  solid  linen  handkerchief 
would  have  covered  a  good-sized  sofa  cushion.  She 
had  satin  shoes  that  went  well  with  her  gown,  but 
did  not  go  well  with  thick  hand-knitted  gray  stockings. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  in 

She  explained,  however,  that  she  possessed  silk  stock- 
ings, but  could  not  venture  to  wear  them  in  this  damp 
climate;  and  she  added  that,  in  her  opinion,  health 
was  more  important  than  elegance. 

"I  should  think  that  you  often  catch  cold,"  she 
said,  looking  with  disfavor  at  Brenda's  pretty  bare 
neck. 

"I  am  bringing  mostly  high  gowns  with  me,"  said 
Brenda.  "I  suppose  I  shall  want  one  of  this  kind 
sometimes." 

"You  will  want  one  for  large  ceremonious  dinners 
or  for  balls.  Not  otherwise.  I  told  you  so  in  my  first 
letter.  If  you  appeared  like  this  in  Berlin  at  a  famliy 
party,  every  one  would  laugh. 

"Would  they?" 

"Naturally.  What  else  could  they  do?  To  me 
your  appearance  is  ridiculous." 

"Would  you  like  to  see  Brenda's  presents?"  said 
Mrs.  Miiller. 

"Where  are  they?" 

"In  the  billiard  room." 

"Then  I  would  rather  see  them  a  little  later.  At 
present  I  prefer  to  sit  quite  still  and  converse  agree- 
ably. It  is  necessary  to  the  digestion.  What  kind  of 
entertainment  are  you  giving  to-morrow  evening?" 

"We  are  not  giving  an  entertainment  at  all,"  said 
Mrs.  Muller.  "We  are  going  to  dine  at  my  son's 
house,  but  it  will  only  be  a  family  party." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  no  Polter- 
abend,  no  festivities  on  the  night  before  your  daugh- 
ter's wedding,  no  poems  written  by  members  of  the 
family,  nothing  acted,  nothing  sung  .  .  ." 

"Nothing  at  all,"  said  Brenda.  "Will  Lothar  be 
dreadfully  disappointed?" 

"For  Lothar  I  cannot  speak.  He  perhaps  knows 
what  to  expect.  But  when  I  think  of  Elsa's  Potter- 
abend  and  even  of  Mina's!  They  were  brilliant 
affairs,  I  can  assure  you.  Even  in  Berlin  they  excited 


H2  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

attention.  After  all,  when  a  daughter  marries  one 
exerts  oneself  a  little.  At  least  it  is  so  with  us.  But 
every  land  has  its  own  customs.  Does  it  not  alarm 
you,  Brenda,  to  reflect  that  on  the  day  after  to-morrow 
you  will  become  the  wife  of  a  German  officer?" 

Brenda  thought  that  Frau  Erdmann  had  a  knack 
of  asking  questions  it  was  difficult  to  answer.  In 
some  of  its  aspects  she  would  not  dwell  on  her  mar- 
riage at  all,  because  the  only  way  to  go  through  with  it 
was  to  keep  her  mind  a  blank ;  but  it  had  not  occurred 
to  her  to  feel  afraid  o£  her  future  position  or  to  regard 
it  as  in  any  way  a  brilliant  one. 

"My  sister  has  married  an  English  officer,"  she 
said.  "They  are  very  happy." 

"The  officers  of  the  German  army  are  not  toy  sol- 
diers like  yours,"  said  Frau  Erdmann.  "Besides, 
their  position  is  different.  They  are  not  ashamed  of 
their  uniform." 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  see  Lothar  in  his  again,"  said 
Brenda. 

"Lothar  looks  well  in  everything,"  said  Frau 
Erdmann,  bridling.  "He  is  an  exceptionally  fine 
man." 

As  she  spoke  the  men  came  into  the  room,  and 
Lothar  went  straight  up  to  Brenda,  but  did  not  sit 
down. 

"I  have  not  had  a  word  with  you,"  he  said.  "Let 
us  go  to  your  own  room." 

Brenda  hesitated.  All  her  wedding  clothes  were 
spread  out  there  for  the  delectation  of  her  women 
friends. 

"Come  and  see  my  presents,"  she  said,  and  took 
him  into  the  billiard  room.  It  was  curtained  and  in 
darkness,  so  she  switched  on  the  light.  As  she  did 
so  Lothar  shut  the  door,  took  her  into  his  arms  and 
kissed  her  violently;  and  as  it  seemed  to  her  ever- 
lastingly. She  made  no  attempt  to  evade  him,  but 
his  ardor  did  not  communicate  itself  to  her.  She 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  113 

was  able  to  think  quite  clearly  and  decide  quite  surely 
that  she  did  not  like  being  kissed. 

"I  hear  the  others,"  she  said,  when,  after  a  lull 
during  which  she  was  not  released,  he  showed  every 
sign  of  beginning  again.  "They  are  coming  to  see 
the  presents." 

Lothar  uttered  a  sound  of  execration,  but  did  not 
let  her  go  as  suddenly  and  completely  as  she  expected. 
The  others  came  in  almost  directly,  and  he,  with  his 
arm  still  round  her,  went  to  a  corner  of  the  big  room 
that  was  dimly  lighted.  There  he  drew  her  down 
beside  him  on  a  small  sofa  and  talked  to  her  in  under- 
tones, while  the  four  older  people  looked  at  the  presents 
and  talked  of  them. 

"We  have  had  no  real  bride-time,"  said  Lothar, 
holding  her  to  him  with  a  determination  she  consid- 
ered indecorous  under  the  circumstances.  "You  still 
feel  strange  with  me.  I  see  it." 

"I  agree  with  the  people  who  want  trial  marriages," 
began  Brenda,  but  stopped  because  Lothar  shouted 
"WHAT!"  so  violently  that  their  elders,  far  away  as 
they  were,  looked  up  startled. 

"I  dare  say  it  can't  be  managed,"  Brenda  went  on, 
"but  it  seems  a  pity.  If  you  and  I  could  go  away 
for  a  fortnight  and  just  find  out  whether  we  liked  each 
other  well  enough  .  .  ." 

"I  forbid  you  to  talk  such  nonsense,"  said  Lothar 
ponderously.  "I  am  surprised  and  shocked  to  find 
that  a  well-brought-up  young  girl  can  have  such  ideas. 
Marriage  is  an  institution  for  the  benefit  of  the  weaker 
sex,  and  society  is  founded  on  it." 

Brenda  did  not  know  whether  to  laugh  or  grow 
angry.  She  had  spoken  with  whimsical  lightness, 
knowing  that  what  she  proposed  was  outside  the  range 
of  practical  affairs,  and  she  had  not  expected  her 
morals  to  be  impugned.  Lothar's  outburst  only 
served  to  increase  her  strong,  disturbing  conviction 
that  he  was  a  stranger  to  her  and  that  no  glamour  of 


H4  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

love  was  going  to  make  the  immediate  future  easy. 
She  liked  him  less  to-day  than  she  had  done  in  Mann- 
heim, and  felt  less  at  home  with  him. 

"I  am  not  proposing  to  abolish  marriage,"  she 
began  rather  impatiently,  but  with  an  imperious 
wave  of  his  hand  he  quashed  further  discussion. 

"I  have  said  that  you  are  not  to  speak  of  such 
things,"  he  reminded  her.  "A  young  bride  on  the 
eve  of  her  nuptials  should  have  quite  other  ideas  in 
her  head.  I  will  look  at  your  presents  now  and 
compare  them  with  the  list  I  have  brought  of  mine. 
Perhaps  if  there  are  many  duplicates  we  can  effect 
some  exchanges." 

He  got  up,  and  Brenda,  feeling  more  depressed 
than  she  had  ever  done  in  her  life,  followed  him.  A 
business-like  conversation  with  his  parents  ensued, 
which  informed  her  that  still  heavier  and  handsomer 
articles  than  most  of  those  on  the  table  awaited  the 
happy  pair  in  Berlin;  and  that  the  two  or  three 
pictures  given  to  her  were  of  an  old-fashioned  de- 
scription compared  with  one  painted  in  spots  and  rep- 
resenting putrefying  bodies  on  a  Balkan  battlefield. 
August  Zorn,  Lothar's  brother-in'-law,  had  presented 
him  with  this  work  of  art,  and  Frau  Erdmann  said 
that  it  was  extremely  clever  but  not  what  she  enjoyed 
looking  at  herself.  What  really  troubled  her,  how- 
ever, was  the  idea  of  seeing  a  production  of  the  highest 
genius  thrown  away  on  a  room  furnished  in  the 
commonplace  English  style.  When  she  heard  that 
Brenda  was  sending  things  from  London  she  knew 
that  poor  Lothar  would  have  a  home  that  excited 
the  derision  of  his  more  cultured  friends. 

"In  Berlin  we  have  furniture  that  is  designed  by 
artists,"  she  said.  "If  you  had  left  everything  to  me, 
I  should  have  done  my  best." 

"To-morrow  I  shall  look  at  what  the  little  bride 
has  chosen,"  said  Lothar,  "and  if  it  is  not  to  my 
liking  .  .  ." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  115 

"I'm  afraid  you  can't  do  that,"  said  Brenda. 
"Everything  is  packed  and  sent  off.  I  hope  you  will 
like  the  things,  Lothar.  At  any  rate  I  shall,  and  they 
will  matter  more  to  me  than  to  you." 

"What  exactly  do  you  mean?"  inquired  Frau 
Erdmann. 

"Well  ...  as  a  rule  men  don't  notice  furniture 
much,  do  they?"  said  Brenda.  "They  are  less  at  home." 

"I  am  extremely  sensitive  to  my  surroundings," 
said  Lothar.  "I  frequent  several  houses  where  the 
greatest  taste  prevails.  When  you  have  seen  Frau 
von  Prassler's  reception  rooms,  for  instance,  you  have 
seen  something  grandoise" 

"And  Elsa!"  put  in  Frau  Erdmann.  "Nothing  can 
exceed  the  richness  and  artistic  taste  of  Elsa's  salon 
now  that  she  has  had  it  redecorated.  There  is  only 
one  opinion  about  it." 

"Brenda  has  not  bought  any  of  her  kitchen  things 
yet,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller  mistakenly.  She  did  not  mean 
to  give  offense,  but  Frau  Erdmann  pursed  her  lips, 
glared  at  her  husband,  and  threw  back  her  head  as  if 
she  were  a  horse  annoyed  by  flies. 

"You  hear!"  she  said.  "The  kitchen  things  are 
left  for  Berlin.  Everything  else  must  come  from 
London.  Well,  we  shall  see  what  London  can  produce. 
I  have  seen  nothing  here  yet  that  I  admire." 

"Can  you  cook?"  said  Lothar  to  Brenda. 

"I  can  not,"  she  admitted. 

"You  must  learn  as  quickly  as  possible,"  said 
Lothar.  "I'm  sure  my  mother  will  be  delighted  to 
teach  you." 

"What  do  cooks  do  in  Germany?"  said  Brenda. 

"Naturally  they  cook,"  said  Frau  Erdmann;  "but 
they  require  the  guiding  eye  of  the  mistress  always 
over  them." 

"Brenda  will  soon  settle  down  to  German  ways  and 
find  out  what  to  do,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller.  "She  has 
plenty  of  sense." 


n6  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Frau  Erdmann  looked  so  skeptical  that  if  she  had 
spoken  she  could  hardly  have  made  her  meaning 
plainer.  Herr  Erdmann  said  that  one  of  his  daughters 
had  married  money  and  the  other  learning,  and  that 
the  professor's  wife  had  to  make  one  mark  go  as  far 
as  two,  an  exercise  that  kept  her  always  busy.  Lothar 
praised  both  his  sisters,  and  said  that  he  had  eaten  as 
good  a  dinner  in  Mina's  house  as  in  Elsa's,  which 
reflected  great  credit  on  Mina,  since  she  was  the 
comparatively  poor  one;  and  Jem,  coming  in  unex- 
pectedly with  Violet,  found  five  people  talking  about 
sauces,  while  Brenda,  looking  visibly  depressed,  re- 
arranged some  embroideries.  When  she  saw  her 
brother  and  his  wife  her  face  became  radiant,  and  she 
met  them  with  a  warmth  that  she  recognized  herself 
as  a  danger  signal;  for  surely  it  was  not  right  that  a 
little  bride  should  run  towards  relatives  she  was  leav- 
ing, as  if  they  brought  with  them  all  the  harmony  of 
life;  while  the  people  holding  her  future  in  their 
hands  jarred  on  her. 

Violet  had  not  seen  the  three  Germans  yet,  and 
there  was  a  twinkle  in  her  eyes  when  she  had  been 
presented  to  them:  a  twinkle  quite  indecipherable  un- 
less you  knew  her  as  Brenda  did.  She  told  Jem 
later  that  Herr  Erdmann  looked  like  old  Kriiger  and 
Frau  Erdmann  like  a  bad-tempered  cook.  Lothar 
she  thought  downright  offensive  at  once.  His  air  was 
the  air  of  Mars  amongst  civilians,  while  his  manner 
to  Brenda  made  her  laugh  and  rage  by  turns,  it  was 
so  doting  and  domineering.  She  could  not  understand 
what  had  possessed  Brenda  when  she  accepted  him, 
and  she  greatly  feared  that  Brenda  was  asking  herself 
the  same  question  without  getting  a  satisfactory 
answer.  For  the  girl  looked  anxious  and  preoccupied, 
was  unusually  silent,  and  when  Lothar  addressed  her 
did  not  respond  with  any  warmth.  Every  one  except 
Lothar  noticed  this  and  felt  uneasy.  His  parents 
told  each  other  at  the  end  of  the  day  that  their  son  was 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  117 

making  a  mistake  and  would  live  to  rue  it.  Brer/da 
did  not  fulfill  their  expectations  in  some  important 
ways,  for  though  she  had  sufficient  money  she  was 
evidently  a  girl  of  extravagant  habits,  ignorant  of  all 
a  woman  should  know  and  wanting  in  the  deference 
young  females  should  show  to  their  elders  and  betters. 
They  feared  that  Lothar  would  have  trouble  in  manag- 
ing her,  but  agreed  that  when  he  came  out  of  love's 
young  dream  he  was  the  man  to  do  it. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Miiller  were  anxious  about  the  future, 
too,  but  in  a  different  way.  Mr.  Miiller  liked  Lothar 
less  than  ever,  and  wished  he  had  never  taken  Brenda 
to  Heidelberg  in  June  or  never  allowed  her  to  become 
a  mouthful  for  her  stiff-necked  cousin;  but  Mrs. 
Miiller  pointed  out  that  men  of  German  blood  made 
good  husbands  as  a  rule,  and  that  Brenda  might  be 
happy  even  if  she  carried  her  own  parcels,  opened  her 
own  doors,  and  was  rebuked  when  the  dinner  went 
wrong.  In  the  intimacy  of  family  life  these  things 
happened  in  England,  too,  and  no  one  was  a  penny 
the  worse.  Besides,  Brenda  had  chosen  to  marry 
Lothar,  so  presumably  she  loved  him.  Her  mother 
did  not  think  the  girl's  dejected  manner  meant  much. 
She  herself  had  hated  Mr.  Miiller  for  at  least  a  week 
before  their  marriage,  and  would  have  run  away  if 
she  had  known  where  to  go.  Mr.  Miiller  seemed 
surprised  to  hear  this. 

The  next  day  was  so  crowded  that  no  one  had  a 
moment  to  consider  the  situation  that  was  close  upon 
them.  Lothar  had  gone  back  with  Jem  and  Violet, 
but  he  came  to  the  Avenue  Road  in  the  morning  with 
a  huge  basket  of  wired  roses  that  he  presented  to  his 
little  bride. 

"Very  tasteful,"  said  his  father  and  mother.  "You 
could  hardly  buy  a  finer  basket  in  Berlin." 

Brenda,  who  detested  wired  flowers,  knew  that  her 
thanks  sounded  flat  and  insufficient.  She  had  not 
much  for  three  nights;  she  had  acute  neuralgia 


ii8  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

and  she  felt  flat  and  insufficient  from  head  to  foot  this 
morning-.  Frau  Erdmann  looked  at  her  with  growing 
disapproval  and  asked  if  anything  was  the  matter. 
Neuralgia  she  did  not  believe  in  at  all.  It  was  a 
disease  of  the  nerves  that  a  strong  character  could 
overcome  at  any  moment. 

"I'm  not  a  strong  character,"  said  Brenda. 

"Then  it  is  extremely  fortunate  for  you  that  you 
are  marrying  one,"  said  Frau  Erdmann. 

It  was  a  day  of  a  thousand  patterns  all  different, 
thought  Brenda.  Old  friends  and  servants  came  with 
presents,  people  she  had  loved  all  her  life  and  was 
going  to  leave.  The  family  solicitor  sent  his  clerk 
with  settlements  to  sign.  The  Wilmots  arrived  with 
their  two  little  girls,  who  were  to  be  Brenda's  youngest 
bridesmaids.  A  great  hamper  of  flowers  came  from 
Treva  and  an  unexpected  present  of  a  silver  rost 
bowl  from  Major  Lovel.  Presents,  clothes,  letters, 
telegrams,  callers,  the  children's  high  cheerful  voices, 
her  mother's  imperturbable  good  humor,  doors  and 
windows  open,  the  Erdmanns  complaining  of  draughts, 
the  hot  summer  sun,  flowers  everywhere,  and  amidst 
it  all  the  uncomfortable  thought  that  Lothar's  part 
in  the  whole  tohu  bohu  went  hand  in  hand  with  her 
own.  Lothar!  who  brought  her  wired  roses  in  the 
morning,  and  in  the  evening  when  she  arrived  at  Jem's 
house  took  her  into  the  library  and  presented  her  with 
a  necklace  that  she  saw  at  a  glance  was  tawdry  and 
pretentious. 

"It  has  only  just  arrived  from  Berlin,"  he  said. 
"Little  Mamma  chose  it  for  me." 

"How  troublesome  it  is,  mused  Brenda,  when 
one's  perceptions  are  more  honest  than  one's  thoughts 
should  be;  and  when  a  gift  you  desire  to  accept  with 
gratitude  rouses  a  still  stronger  desire  to  throw  it  out 
of  the  window.  Little  Mamma  could  be  seen  all  over 
the  necklace,  in  the  coarseness  of  the  setting,  the 
garish  combination  of  stones  and  the  florid  sprawl 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  119 

of  the  design.  It  had  probably  cost  a  good  deal,  but 
not  nearly  as  much  as  a  necklace  of  royal  pretensions 
ought  to  cost.  Even  the  case  looked  cheap.  Brenda 
fixed  her  mind  firmly  on  Lothar's  kind  intentions, 
thanked  him,  and  hoped  that  as  most  of  the  stones 
were  colored  he  would  not  expect  her  to  wear  it  with 
her  wedding  gown. 

"I  will  put  it  round  your  neck  myself,"  he  said 
ardently,  "to-night  and  again  to-morrow." 

Brenda  had  known  he  would  wish  to  do  this  to-night 
the  moment  she  saw  it,  and  knew  that  when  he  had 
snapped  the  clasp  he  would  imprint  a  fervent  kiss  on 
her  neck.  There  was  something  stereotyped  about 
his  actions,  just  as  there  was  about  his  opinions  and 
his  talk.  She  thought  she  almost  knew  now  at  any 
given  moment  what  he  would  do  or  say,  and  she  hoped 
this  insight  into  the  machinery  of  his  mind  would 
make  life  easier. 

"I  think  I  won't  wear  it  to-night,"  she  began,  and 
found  in  a  flash  that  she  was  deceiving  herself  if  she 
thought  she  knew  how  to  deal  with  him. 

"You  will  wear  it  to-night,"  he  said  angrily.  "I 
wish  it.  Little  Mamma  must  see  it  on  you.  To- 
morrow she  will  be  crying." 

Brenda  wanted  to  say  "Damn  Little  Mamma" 
because  she  knew  she  was  going  to  feel  like  crying 
herself  to-morrow  and  did  not  see  what  Frau  Erdmann 
had  to  shed  tears  about.  She  was  not  going  to  marry  a 
man  she  had  accepted  in  a  moment  of  insane,  rosy 
rapture  and  had  hardly  seen  since:  who  brought  her 
a  necklace  she  considered  conspicuously  vulgar  and 
who  clasped  it  round  her  neck  with  a  proprietary  air 
and  the  beaux  gestes  of  a  magazine  hero. 

"I  hope  no  one  will  cry,"  said  Brenda.  "Tears 
are  infectious  and  quite  absurd  at  a  wedding." 

"For  a  young  girl  .  .  .  for  a  little  bride  .  .  .  you 
express  your  opinions  too  freely,"  said  Lothar. 

She  supposed  it  was  the  neuralgia,  but  she  thought 


120  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

it  was  also  the  heavy  chill  of  that  infernal  necklace 
and  the  tickle  on  her  neck  of  the  undesired  kiss.  At 
any  rate  she  turned  on  him  with  exasperation. 

"If  you  call  me  little  bride  I  shall  call  you  Popsy- 
Wopsy,"  she  said. 

But  he  only  stared  at  her  woodenly. 

"What  is  Popsy-Wopsy?"  he  asked.  "It  sounds 
silly." 

"It  is  silly." 

"You  are  not  yourself  to-night,"  he  said  after  a 
moment's  consideration,  and  opened  the  door  for  her 
to  pass  out  before  him. 

On  looking  back  she  thought  that  he  had  behaved 
better  than  she  had. 


XI 

ALL  through  the  night  it  had  been  touch  and 
go  with  Brenda.  She  had  undressed  and  gone 
to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep.  She  had  got  up,  half 
dressed  again,  and  sat  at  her  open  window  staring  at 
the  silent  summer  darkness  of  the  garden.  Suppose 
she  did  it!  Suppose  she  stole  out  of  the  house  with 
the  few  pounds  she  possessed  and  sent  a  telegram  to 
her  mother  or  left  a  note  assuring  her  that  she  was 
alive  and  well,  but  could  not  marry  Lothar.  It  had 
been  done  before,  and  still  the  world  went  round. 
But  she  would  have  to  walk  up  and  down  London  all 
night,  and  probably  be  molested  or  taken  up  by  the 
police;  and  the  police  were  so  stupid  and  yet  so 
knowing  that  they  would  probably  find  out  who  she 
was  and  bring  her  back  in  time  for  the  civil  wedding 
which  was  to  take  place  at  the  nearest  Registrar's 
office  at  eleven.  There  was  no  hurry.  If  she  decided 
to  go,  six  o'clock  would  be  time  enough,  just  before 
the  servants  were  up.  The  quiet  coat  and  skirt  she 
meant  to  put  on  for  the  morning  lay  ready  for  her. 
Her  wedding  gown  was  in  a  wardrobe  with  her  veK 
and  wreath  of  orange  blossom.  She  was  wearing  no 
myrtle.  She  knew  that  German  brides  invariably 
wore  myrtle,  but  she  was  English  and  wished  to 
remain  English.  She  had  taken  her  country  for 
granted  till  now,  when  she  was  going  to  leave  it  for 
ever.  All  the  liberty  and  sweetness  of  life  here  she 
had  taken  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  even  joined  in 
the  laughter  against  England  that  seems  amusing 

121 


122  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

while  you  live  there  enjoying  all  it  gives.  She  had 
thought  it  would  be  a  pleasant  adventure  to  set  up 
house  in  a  foreign  land  and  taste  its  strangeness;  but 
she  had  not  thought  enough  of  the  way  back,  a  way 
closed  by  marriage.  She  could  never  come  back 
except  as  a  visitor  and  by  permission  of  Lothar.  He 
had  promised  her  that  she  could  come  back  every 
year  for  some  weeks,  and  unless  she  stole  out  of  the 
house  now  at  the  eleventh  hour  she  would  have  to 
depend  on  his  promise.  Altogether  she  would  be 
dependent  on  him,  it  seemed — dependent  on  his 
pleasure  and  displeasure,  on  his  opinions,  on  his  family. 
Her  own  family  would  be  a  long  way  off  hencefor- 
ward. She  lay  down,  half  dressed,  outside  her  bed, 
weary,  dispirited  and  in  doubt.  So  her  mother  found 
her,  fast  asleep,  next  morning.  She  had  slept  through 
the  hour  when  she  might  have  escaped,  slept  fast  and 
dreamlessly  as  she  had  not  done  for  a  week. 

"It  is  ten  o'clock,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller.  "I  would 
not  allow  them  to  wake  you.  But  now  you've  only 
just  time  to  dress." 

"I  meant  to  wake  at  six,"  said  Brenda,  still  dazed 
with  sleep. 

"What  for?"  said  Mrs.  Miiller,  whose  hands  were 
full  of  letters,  telegrams  and  parcels.  Her  question 
remained  unanswered,  but  she  did  not  notice  it  be- 
cause a  maid  came  in  with  a  breakfast  tray  and  because 
there  were  various  things  to  look  at  and  discuss.  She 
was  not  quite  happy  about  her  daughter's  marriage, 
but  it  never  even  occurred  to  her  that  anything  could 
stop  it  now. 

Anyhow,  nothing  did  stop  it.  At  three  o'clock 
Brenda  came  out  of  church  married,  for  better  for 
worse,  to  Lothar,  and  at  five  o'clock  she  departed  with 
him  in  her  father's  car.  They  were  going  to  Dover 
that  night  and  to  Paris  to-morrow.  The  wedding  had 
been  a  crowded  one  and  well  arranged.  Eight  brides- 
maids and  two  pages  had  followed  Brenda  to  the  altar, 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  123 

a  full  choral  service  had  accompanied  her  marriage 
vows,  her  friends  had  given  her  an  affectionate  send 
off,  and  as  she  took  a  last  look  at  her  old  home  she  saw 
her  own  people  in  the  foreground,  her  father  and 
mother,  Jem,  Violet  and  Thekla,  and  Thekla's  two 
little  girls,  Mary  and  Barbara. 

"Gott  sei  Dank,  that's  over,"  said  Lothar.  "Take 
off  your  veil,  little  wife.  It  is  impossible  to  kiss  a 
woman  properly  through  a  veil." 

"People  can  see  in,"  said  Brenda  doubtfully. 

"What  do  I  care?"  cried  Lothar,  and  strained  her 
fiercely  to  him. 

That  sort  of  thing  went  on  all  through  the  honey- 
moon, and  Brenda  found  it  wearing.  If  Lothar  wanted 
a  veil  off  he  said  so  without  any  consideration  for  her, 
and  if  he  wanted  to  put  his  arm  round  her  he  did  not 
mind  who  looked  on.  In  fact,  he  walked  her  up  and 
down  the  terrace  of  a  Swiss  hotel  so  interlaced  that 
she  knew  every  one  English  must  be  laughing  at 
them ;  but  she  submitted  rather  than  risk  an  explosion 
of  temper.  He  had  no  control  over  his  temper,  she 
soon  found ;  and  quite  childish  trifles  roused  it.  Wher- 
ever they  went,  sound  and  fury  went  with  them,  so 
that  she  dreaded  a  meal  because  it  usually  meant  a 
row  with  a  waiter.  She  could  see  that  every  one 
who  served  him  hated  him,  and  she  knew  that  his 
arrogance  was  never  served  as  well  as,  for  instance, 
her  father's  considerate  politeness.  His  behavior 
to  her  was  uxorious  and  tyrannical,  a  blend  that 
could  not  please  a  girl  as  detached  and  fastidious  as 
Brenda.  If  she  had  been  blindly  in  love  with  him, 
she  might  have  borne  to  be  adored,  scolded,  kissed, 
bullied,  checked  here  and  ordered  there  in  a  whirlwind 
of  proprietary  ardor.  But  she  never  had  been  blindly 
in  love,  and  marriage  did  not  make  her  so.  There 
must  be  something  wanting  in  one  of  them,  she 
thought,  some  magnetic  quality  in  him  that  would 
have  fascinated  her,  or  some  strain  of  the  elemental 


124  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

woman  in  her  that  would  have  surrendered  to  a  mate 
with  a  club.  When  it  was  time  to  go  to  Berlin  she 
felt  relieved.  He  would  be  hard  at  work  at  once,  he 
told  her,  and  she  would  have  many  lonely  hours.  She 
looked  forward  to  them. 

About  their  arrival  in  Berlin  he  preserved  a  resolute 
silence  that  vexed  her.  He  would  not  tell  her  whether 
they  were  to  stay  with  his  parents  or  in  a  hotel  or  in 
rooms  till  their  home  was  ready  for  them,  nor  would 
he  say  in  what  quarter  he  thought  of  living  or  whether 
they  were  to  have  a  flat  or  what  he  called  a  villa. 
When  she  questioned  him  about  these  matters  he 
evaded  her  and  enlarged  on  the  perfect  taste  and 
judgment  exercised  by  Little  Mamma  and  his  sisters 
in  domestic  matters.  He  said  again  and  again  that 
though  Elsa's  husband  was  rich  and  Mina's  compara- 
tively poor,  they  were  both  so  blessed  in  their  wives 
that  their  existence  was  one  of  unbroken  comfort. 
In  fact,  they  were  men  any  man  must  envy. 

"If  you  model  yourself  on  my  sisters  in  all  ways, 
you  will  make  me  happy,"  he  said. 

"When  you  talk  like  that  you  remind  me  that  I 
want  to  be  happy  myself,"  said  Brenda,  who  was 
finding  unsuspected  and  disturbing  wells  of  anger  in 
herself  at  times. 

"A  woman's  happiness  lies  in  self-sacrifice  and 
devotion  to  others.  At  least  with  us  it  does.  Our 
ideas  .  .  ." 

"Your  ideas  about  women  are  out  of  date,"  said 
Brenda.  "You  will  find  them  all  in  our  older  poets." 

"You  talk  nonsense,  my  little  treasure,  and  if  you 
did  not  look  so  pretty  in  that  white  peignoir  you  would 
make  me  angry.  My  ideas  about  women  are  the 
right  ones.  At  any  rate  they  will  govern  your  conduct 
in  future.  We  have  women  in  Berlin  with  what  you 
call  advanced  opinions,  but  no  one  pays  the  least 
attention  to  them.  We  do  not  even  allow  a  woman 
to  attend  a  political  meeting." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  125 

"You  allow  her  to  do  heavy  field  work.  I  have 
seen  it." 

"Why  not?  A  woman  is  there  to  serve  men  and 
rear  children.  Otherwise  the  world  could  get  on 
better  without  her.  What  does  she  do  for  the  world  ? 
She  has  no  economic  existence  at  all,  and  she  cannot 
bear  arms.  All  she  can  do  is  to  devote  herself  to 
others.  My  mamma  and  my  sisters  are  busy  from 
morning  till  night  and  never  think  of  themselves  at 
all." 

Brenda  naturally  wondered  whether  Lothar's  sisters 
were  going  to  be  as  tiresome  and  officious  as  his 
mother,  and  she  made  up  her  mind  that  she  would  try 
to  live  as  far  from  them  as  possible.  With  this  idea  in 
her  mind,  one  wet  afternoon  she  unfolded  a  map  of 
Berlin  that  she  had  with  her  and  began  by  finding  the 
Bavarian  quarter  where  she  knew  that  the  Erdmanns 
lived. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  said  her  husband  when 
he  came  in  and  found  her  employed  in  this  way. 
"A  map  of  Berlin!  Where  did  you  get  it?  In 
London?  Have  they  maps  of  Berlin  in  London? 
Do  you  understand  how  to  use  a  map?  You  see  this 
long  street,  the  Kurf urstendamm !  That  is  where 
we  shall  live.  You  have  nothing  to  compare  with  it 
in  London." 

"I  should  like  to  live  right  in  the  forest,  outside 
the  city,"  said  Brenda. 

"We  shall  live  in  the  Kurfurstendamm,"  said 
Lothar,  and  would  say  no  more.  It  was  not  till  they 
actually  arrived  in  Berlin  a  week  later,  and  were 
received  at  the  station  by  a  family  group  with  offerings 
of  flowers,  that  Brenda  learned  what  hung  over  her. 
The  group  consisted  of  Little  Mamma,  Elsa,  Mina, 
Professor  August  Zorn  and  some  children.  Brenda, 
alighting  in  a  limp,  weary  condition,  got  a  confused 
impression  of  gushing  embraces,  critical  glances, 
flowers,  pigtails  and  a  harsh  croaking  voice  that  laid 


126  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

down  the  law  even  to  Little  Mamma.  When  the 
group  moved  on,  some  of  it  got  into  a  taxi  and  some 
said  they  would  go  back,  as  they  came,  by  tramcar. 
Brenda  found  herself  in  a  large  taxi  with  Little 
Mamma,  Lothar  and  Professor  Zorn.  She  wondered 
why  he  came  in  the  taxi  and  let  his  wife  and  children 
go  by  car ;  and  she  decided  at  a  glance  that  she  did  not 
like  him.  She  had  never  seen  such  a  plain  little  pom- 
pous irritable  man.  He  had  fat  cheeks  the  color 
of  tallow,  a  button  nose,  beady  black  eyes,  and  a  quick, 
fidgety  manner.  As  he  got  into  the  taxi  he  stumbled 
over  Brenda's  dressing  bag,  and  that  upset  his  temper 
sadly. 

"The  bag  is  much  too  big,"  he  said.  "My  wife 
has  a  small  bag  which  she  can  carry.  It  holds  my 
things  as  well  as  hers.  I  hate  impedimenta  on  a 
journey." 

"Gott  sei  Dank,  our  travels  are  over,"  said  Lothar. 
"When  one  marries  one  has  to  have  a  wedding 
journey,  but  ours  has  lasted  too  long.  I'm  sick  of 
hotels." 

"Where  are  we  going?"  said  Brenda,  who  thought 
it  was  time  to  know. 

"Where  does  a  young  wife  expect  to  go?"  snapped 
August.  "What  a  strange  question!  To  your  hus- 
band's home,  of  course." 

"But  we  have  not  chosen  our  home  yet,"  said 
Brenda. 

"It  has  been  chosen  for  you,"  said  Frau  Erdmann 
solemnly.  "You  will  find  everything  ready,  even  to 
the  roast  in  the  oven  and  the  cook  to  dish  it  up.  It 
has  been  hard  work,  but  every  day  when  I  returned 
with  an  aching  head  and  agitated  nerves  I  said  to 
Wilhelm,  T  do  it  for  my  son  and  he  will  thank  me.'  ' 

"Little  Mamma,  I  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart,"  exclaimed  Lothar,  and  printed  a  resounding 
kiss  somewhere  near  one  of  the  sandy  wings  that 
nearly  covered  his  mother's  ears. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  127 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  have  taken  a  flat  and  put 
my  furniture  into  it?"  said  Brenda. 

"  'My'  is  a  word  never  heard  on  the  lips  of  a 
German  wife,"  said  the  Professor.  "You  and  all 
you  bring  with  you  are  now  the  property  of  Lothar." 

Brenda  had  not  known  many  violent  dislikes  in 
her  life,  but  she  conceived  one  now  for  the  Profes- 
sor, and  as  she  thought  he  was  behaving  offensively 
she  ignored  him  and,  turning  to  her  mother-in-law, 
asked  again  whether  a  flat  had  really  been  taken  for 
them.  But  before  Frau  Erdmann  could  reply  August 
bounced  to  his  feet,  livid  with  fury,  and  shouted  to  the 
driver  to  stop. 

"What  is  it,  August?"  said  Frau  Erdmann.  "Are 
you  not  well?" 

The  little  man  was  actually  spluttering  with  rage 
as  he  answered. 

"I  am  evidently  not  good  enough  for  the  gracious 
one.  When  I  speak  she  does  not  answer.  This  is 
English  Kultur.  When  a  man  of  years  and  learning 
addresses  such  a  silly  goose,  she  replies  with  a  stare 
and  does  not  know  enough  to  open  her  mouth.  But 
there  is  a  limit  to  what  my  dignity  can  endure. 
Civility  is  my  right  and  I  insist  on  it.  If  Lothar  is 
under  the  slipper,  it  is  not  my  affair.  Such  manners 
are  typical." 

Brenda  was  aghast  and  looked  at  Lothar.  She  saw 
no  promise  of  support  in  his  face,  but  only  scowling 
impatience;  while  Frau  Erdmann,  after  waiting  for 
him  to  speak,  said:  "I  should  have  thought  you 
would  expect  Brenda  to  be  polite  to  your  relatives. 
My  idea  of  good  manners  is  to  reply  amiably  when  I 
am  addressed.  August  was  quite  right.  It  is  unbe- 
coming in  a  young  wife  to  speak  as  if  anything  in  the 
house  belonged  to  her  only." 

"It  was  quite  accidental  and  shall  never  happen 
again,"  said  Brenda,  and  then  the  taxi  stopped  at  a 
tall  house  liberally  decorated  with  turrets  and  having 


128  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

on  either  side  of  the  front  door  two  colossal  figures 
made  of  red  brick.  A  lift  took  the  perturbed  party 
to  the  fourth  floor,  where  on  one  of  the  doors  Brenda 
saw  a  brass  plate  with  her  husband's  name.  A 
blowsy-looking  maidservant  wearing  a  tartan  skirt, 
a  velveteen  bodice,  and  a  coral  brooch  appeared  in 
answer  to  the  bell,  bid  them  good  day  and  invited 
them  in.  She  looked  hard  at  Brenda,  addressed  Frau 
Erdmann  as  griddige  Fran,  and  said  that  she  was 
all  in  a  flutter  because  the  meat  had  only  just  come 
and  would  not  be  ready  as  early  as  it  should  have 
been. 

"Welcome,  little  wife,  to  our  home,"  said  Lothar 
as  they  entered,  but  he  was  out  of  humor  and  spoke 
constrainedly. 

As  Brenda  crossed  the  threshold  she  saw  that  the 
passage  was  hung  with  wreaths  and  garlands  of  green 
stuff,  as  if  it  had  been  Christmas,  and  on  the  walls 
she  saw  slabs  of  wood  on  which  proverbs  and  greet- 
ings were  done  in  rough  poker  work. 

"All  these  Mina  and  the  children  have  prepared," 
Frau  Erdmann  pointed  out,  and  then,  throwing  open 
a  door,  she  said  in  a  proud  voice,  "The  dining-room !" 

It  really  was  a  trying  moment  for  Brenda,  who  had 
thought  out  her  color  schemes  with  the  greatest  care 
and  chosen  all  her  furniture  in  relation  to  the  walls 
and  carpets  she  meant  to  have  as  a  setting.  She 
wanted  a  warm  glowing  dining-room  with  sun  on  the 
breakfast  table,  a  Persian  carpet  on  the  floor  and 
curtains  to  go  with  the  tawny  pinks  of  it. 

"The  dining-room  shall  be  either  orange  or  rose, 
according  to  what  I  find,"  she  said  to  her  mother. 
"The  drawing-room  shall  be  creamy  white  mostly  and 
my  bedroom  green  and  blue.  I  know  just  how  it  will 
all  look,  and  you  must  soon  come  to  see  it."  And 
now — here  was  the  dining-room  with  the  furniture 
she  had  chosen  set  against  walls  that  looked  as  if 
large  brown  chenille  serpents  were  crawling  over  a 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  129 

sickly  yellow  ground.  The  ceiling  was  in  heavy 
shades  of  brown  and  gamboge  to  match  the  walls, 
and  the  curtains  were  of  thick  chocolate  reps  with 
elaborate  upholstered  canopies.  Even  the  carpet  was 
brown,  and  on  the  crookedly  set  dinner  table  there 
was  a  vase  of  artificial  flowers. 

"Very  practical,"  said  the  Professor.  "Very  rich 
and  elegant,  too.  Little  Mamma  has  taste.  That 
one  must  allow.  Elsa  wanted  light  colors  here,  I 
believe,  but  she  need  not  consider  expense  at  all. 
This  brown  will  last  a  lifetime  and  does  not  fade 
much.  We  have  it  ourselves  in  our  salon." 

He  looked  like  it,  thought  Brenda,  and  followed 
Frau  Erdmann  through  a  communicating  door  into 
the  drawing-room,  which  had  been  distempered  a  hard 
cold  slate,  neither  blue  nor  gray. 

"This  room  is  not  to  my  taste,"  began  Frau  Erd- 
mann, and  Brenda  said  unwarily  that  perhaps  it  could 
be  altered  and  that  she  had  thought  of  having  ivory 
white  walls.  Her  Chesterfield  and  all  her  big  com- 
fortable easy  chairs  were  covered  with  an  attractive 
flowery  chintz  and  she  had  found  some  fine  pieces  of 
old  furniture  for  this  room,  one  of  which  was  an 
inlaid  French  cabinet  with  good-sized  drawers. 

"I  was  not  thinking  of  the  walls,"  said  Frau  Erd- 
mann. "The  walls  are  as  I  chose  them,  and  if  they 
are  not  pleasing  to  you  I  am  sorry.  I  did  my  best, 
and  more  than  that  no  one  can  do.  But  cotton  chair 
covers  in  the  salon  I  should  not  have  advised.  In  a 
bedroom,  yes,  but  in  a  salon  one  expects  velvet  or 
brocade.  I  should  also  have  preferred  a  suite  of  new 
furniture  such  as  you  can  buy  at  several  places  in 
Berlin.  Your  chairs  are  a  shape  that  we  consider 
quite  out  of  fashion  and  your  other  pieces  do  not 
match.  The  chest  of  drawers  would  look  better  in  a 
bedroom  in  my  opinion,  but  Elsa  seemed  to  think  it 
should  be  placed  here.  She  has  some  ideas  I  do  not 
hold  with,  but  she  agrees  with  me  about  these  cotton 


1 30  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

covers.  I  am  afraid  this  room  will  make  a  bad  impres- 
sion, and  that  is  a  pity,  as  you  have  your  way  to  make 
amongst  us.  People  will  think  that  you  are  trying 
to  bring  over  English  fashions.  Even  the  Empress 
Frederick  found  that  it  was  a  mistake  to  do  that. 
We  Berliners  are  quite  satisfied  with  our  own  taste 
in  every  way." 

Brenda  did  not  reply  to  this  torrent  of  expostulation, 
because  her  spirits  had  fallen  to  zero.  She  knew 
Lothar  well  enough  now  to  know  that  he  was  thor- 
oughly out  of  humor.  August  was  eying  her  with 
malevolent  curiosity,  and  when  the  whole  party  moved 
on  into  her  bedroom  she  hardly  knew  whether  she 
wanted  to  laugh  or  cry.  For  here  the  walls  and  the 
carpet  burst  upon  her  in  glaring  red,  a  red  that  was 
oppressive  and  detestable.  The  windows  were  tightly 
shut,  the  air  smelled  stuffily  of  new  wood,  new  paint 
and  new  blankets,  and  behind  her  washstand  some  one 
had  hung  a  great  breadth  of  coarse  straw-colored 
canvas  on  which  monkeys  cut  out  of  black  cloth  had 
been  stitched  by  machine. 

"What  fascinating  monkeys!'-'  said  Brenda,  going 
up  to  them. 

"They  are  the  last  word  in  artistic  decoration," 
said  August,  and  Brenda  instantly  wished  they  were 
not  on  her  walls. 

"I  hope  you  are  satisfied  with  everything,"  said 
Frau  Erdmann. 

"But,  Little  Mamma,  I  am  more  than  satisfied," 
cried  Lothar.  "When  I  think  of  all  the  trouble  you 
have  saved  us  and  the  fatigue  you  have  undergone  at 
your  age,  I  cannot  thank  you  enough." 

Brenda  had  gone  to  one  of  the  windows  which  she 
found  looked  out  at  a  courtyard,  surrounded  by  tall 
houses.  She  knew  enough  of  Continental  life  to  know 
that  a  room  with  such  an  outlook  would  be  noisy  all 
day  and  most  of  the  night,  and  that  the  only  way 
of  securing  privacy  was  by  keeping  curtains  closely 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  131 

drawn.  As  she  stood  there  her  husband  came  up  to 
her  and  spoke  in  a  low  voice  that  she  knew  had  vials 
of  wrath  behind  it. 

"My  mother  is  waiting  for  you  to  thank  her  for  all 
she  has  done,"  he  said. 

"I  didn't  want  it  done." 

"Nevertheless,  you  will  thank  my  mother  for  the 
trouble  she  has  taken." 

With  mechanical  politeness  Brenda  turned  to  Fran 
Erdmann  and  said  something  that  might  pass  for 
thanks.  The  ensuing  farewells  were  strained,  and 
when  the  husband  and  wife  were  left  to  themselves 
their  first  words  in  their  future  home  were  words  of 
discord.  Brenda  had  been  trying  to  make  up  her  mind 
to  say  little  or  nothing  of  the  vexation  she  felt,  but 
Lothar  stirred  her  anger  at  once. 

"Frauenlaunen?  Women's  whims!  I've  no 
patience  with  them,"  he  began. 

"I  think  you  ought  to  have  told  me,"  cried  Brenda. 

"Told  you  what?" 

"Told  me  that  you  had  commissioned  your  mother 
to  take  this  flat  and  choose  these  atrocious  papers  and 
carpets.  I  could  have  explained  that  I  wanted  to 
choose  my  own." 

"August  is  right,"  said  Lothar.  "There  is  too 
much  'my'  in  your  point  of  view.  This  is  not  your 
house.  It  is  mine.  You  are  in  it  because  you  are 
my  wife.  If  I  am  satisfied,  nothing  else  matters." 

"I  could  not  live  with  these  walls.  I  shall  have 
them  all  redone  at  my  own  expense." 

"You  will  not  have  one  done.  I  will  not  permit 
you  to  waste  our  joint  income  in  such  a  senseless  way. 
You  have  married  a  man  and  not  a  milksop,  and  the 
sooner  you  find  it  out  the  better." 

"But  surely  I  am  to  have  money  of  my  own.  My 
father  said  so." 

"It  will  be  spent  as  I  direct." 

"Well  ...  I  hope  we  sha'n't  quarrel  about  money," 


132  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

said  Brenda  after  a  moment's  reflection.  As  she 
spoke  she  opened  her  dressing-bag  and  began  to  put 
some  of  the  bottles  and  brushes  from  it  on  her  toilet 
table.  Then  she  rang  the  bell  and  told  the  pearl  in 
the  tartan  skirt  to  bring  hot  water.  Frau  Erdmann 
had  described  her  as  a  pearl  and  advised  Brenda  to 
handle  her  carefully  as  she  had  lived  in  a  baron's 
family  for  many  years  and  said  frankly  that  she  did 
not  look  forward  to  a  mistress  with  foreign  ways. 
Her  own  ways  seemed  to  Brenda  far  from  agreeable, 
for  she  stood  in  the  doorway  wiping  her  hands  on  a 
dirty  apron  and  scowling. 

"Hot  water?"  she  echoed.     "What  for?" 

"For  me  ...  in  a  can,"  said  Brenda. 

"The  gracious  lady  said  that  in  a  large  flat  like 
this  one  girl  could  not  be  expected  to  run  to  and  fro 
all  day  with  hot  water.  I  told  her  that  the  Frau 
Baronin  washed  once  in  the  morning  and  not  again. 
If  I  am  to  cook  the  dinner  and  serve  it  and  wait  at 
table " 

"You  will  not  wait  at  table  unless  you  put  on  a 
clean  apron  and  wash  your  hands,"  said  Brenda  firmly. 
"You  will  bring  me  a  can  of  hot  water  at  once  and 
put  another  in  your  master's  dressing-room.  I  am 
the  mistress  of  this  house  and  you  will  either  obey 
me  or  go." 

"Quite  right,"  said  Lothar,  to  his  wife's  surprise, 
when  the  pearl,  looking  sulkier  than  ever,  had  departed. 
"But  as  a  rule  my  orderly  will  wait  at  table." 

"Will  he  know  anything  about  it  ?" 

"Nothing  whatever;    but  I  suppose  he  can  learn." 

"Why  has  your  mother  only  engaged  one  servant? 
Surely  we  can  afford  two." 

"I  am  hungry,"  said  Lothar  shortly.  "When  we 
have  dined  we  can  go  into  these  things.  Be  quick 
and  put  on  your  blue  and  green  tea  gown.  As  a  rule 
you  will  wear  a  blouse  in  the  evening.  My  mother 
and  sisters  would  think  your  tea  gowns  theatrical. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  133 

But  none  of  them  will  come  to-night.  They  will  have 
enormous  tact,  and  will  understand  that  we  wish  to 
spend  the  first  evening  in  our  new  home  by  ourselves. 
I  only  hope  that,  left  to  herself,  the  pearl  will  not  spoil 
the  dinner." 


XII 

LOTHAR  told  Brenda  that  she  had  married  a  man 
and  not  a  milksop;  but  at  times  she  felt  that 
she  had  married  a  child — an  overbearing,  bad- 
tempered  child  with  the  rights  of  a  despot  and  the 
manners  of  a  bully.  Even  by  silence  and  submission 
she  could  not  always  keep  the  peace.  There  were 
days  when  he  wanted  to  quarrel,  when  nothing  she 
could  do  or  say  would  pacify  him,  and  when  she 
found  herself  between  the  devil  of  revolt  and  the 
deep  sea  of  humiliation.  Generally  she  gave  way  even 
when  he  interfered  unwarrantably,  spoiling  her  pleas- 
ure in  the  little  things  of  life  from  which  so  much 
pleasure  springs.  He  would  have  no  flowers  bought 
either  for  the  table  or  the  drawing-room.  He  said 
flowers  were  an  unnecessary  extravagance.  He  would 
eat  this  and  not  that.  The  piano  might  be  played  at 
certain  hours  and  not  at  others.  Windows  Brenda 
liked  open  must  be  shut.  The  very  books  she  read 
were  inspected  and  her  clothes  submitted  to  family 
criticism.  In  Brenda's  opinion  the  family  was  too 
much  with  them.  It  talked  of  itself  as  united,  and 
if  union  means  a  frequent  interchange  of  meals,  it 
was.  But  when  the  members  of  it  met  they  squabbled, 
and  Brenda  had  to  walk  delicately  amongst  them. 
At  first  she  hoped  to  find  a  friend  in  Mina,  the  Pro- 
fessor's wife,  and  she  did  always  half  like,  half  pity 
the  small  battered-looking  woman  who  spent  her  days 
between  the  kitchen  and  the  nursery,  striving  to  please 
an  implacable  man.  The  scenes  there  were  in  that 

134 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  135 

household!  The  storms  in  teacups!  The  waste  of 
energy  and  happiness  over  trifles!  Brenda  decided 
after  a  few  experiences  that,  compared  with  August, 
her  own  husband  was  good-humored.  August  seemed 
to  thrive  on  hatred,  and  the  objects  of  his  hate  changed 
like  the  wind.  But  from  the  first  he  hated  Brenda 
and  all  her  ways. 

"What  time  is  dinner?"  she  asked  him,  when  soon 
after  their  arrival  he  brought  a  verbal  invitation  to 
dine  at  his  house  on  the  following  Sunday. 

"The  usual  time,"  he  snarled. 

But  there  is  no  usual  time  in  Berlin,  and  Brenda 
knew  it.  You  may  be  asked  to  any  kind  of  a  meal  at 
any  time  of  day,  and  when  you  go  to  tea  you  may  or 
may  not  find  that  your  hostess  expects  you  to  stay 
on  and  eat  cutlets  for  supper.  It  is  safer,  however, 
not  to  presume  on  the  cutlets. 

"We  are  to  dine  with  August  and  Mina  on  Sun- 
day," Brenda  said  to  her  husband  when  he  came  in. 

"What  time?"  he  asked. 

"The  usual  time." 

That  struck  sparks  from  Lothar's  temper  at  once, 
and  Brenda  almost  laughed  at  the  variety  of  phrases 
he  found  to  describe  her  imbecility. 

"Couldn't  you  ask  what  time?"  he  shouted.  "You 
know  it  takes  half  the  day  to  get  there." 

"I  did  ask,"  said  Brenda. 

"Well?" 

"He  said  the  usual  time." 

"Gott  im  Hinunel!"  cried  Lothar,  and  asked  the 
heavens  to  be  his  witness  that  it  was  enough  to  drive 
a  man  crazy.  Such  fools  women  were  that  they  could 
not  ask  a  plain  question  and  get  a  plain  answer.  Now 
he  himself  would  have  to  write  since  the  Zorns  were 
not  on  the  telephone. 

"My  dear  Lothar,"  said  Brenda,  growing  angry 
herself,  "I  asked  August  what  time  they  dined  and 
be  hissed  with  fury  and  bounced  out  of  the  room. 


136  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

He  has  the  manners  of  a  monkey.  I  was  going  to  say 
of  a  savage;  but  savages  have  fine  manners,  as  a 
rule." 

"You  think  too  much  of  manners,"  said  Lothar. 
"August  is  a  scholar,  not  a  courtier." 

It  was  now  the  end  of  October,  and  bitter  cold  in 
Berlin.  Brenda  was  sitting  in  the  dining-room  be- 
cause Lothar  would  not  have  the  stove  lighted  in  the 
salon  except  when  they  expected  guests.  He  and 
Brenda  had  paid  a  great  many  calls  soon  after  they 
first  settled  down,  and  they  had  been  called  on  in 
return  and  entertained  in  various  ways.  Most  of 
Lothar's  friends  were  in  the  army;  many  of  them 
were  very  poor.  The  men  of  these  households  were  as 
fine  as  peacocks,  but  their  womenfolk  drudged  and 
stinted  from  year's  end  to  year's  end.  They  lived  on 
incomes  hardly  sufficient  to  keep  body  and  soul 
together,  and  as  Brenda  got  fo  know  some  of  them  she 
discovered  little  shifts  and  miseries  in  their  lives  that 
filled  her  with  pity.  But  she  discovered,  too,  that 
their  pride  of  caste  supported  them.  The  wife  of  a 
lieutenant  who  washed  her  own  clothes,  could  net 
pay  her  bills,  and  had  the  brains  and  the  profile  of  a 
rabbit,  considered  that  she  honored  Lothar's  relations, 
the  Abels,  when  she  visited  them,  because  the  lieuten- 
ant was  "noble"  and  Siegmund  Abel  was  a  Jew. 
That,  Brenda  found,  was  her  sister-in-law  Elsa's 
greatest  trouble.  When  she  was  too  young  to 
understand  all  that  it  entailed  she  had  married 
Siegmund  Abel,  who  was  a  Jew.  Brenda  liked 
Siegmund  better  than  any  one  in  Berlin.  He  was  a 
tall,  dignified  man  with  the  sad  eyes  of  Rembrandt's 
Jewish  Rabbi  and  a  quiet,  educated  manner.  He  was 
a  good  deal  older  than  his  wife  and  did  not  share  in 
her  social  ambitions,  but  he  allowed  her  to  spend  a 
great  deal  of  money  on  entertaining  people  who 
thought  they  did  him  a  favor  to  go  to  his  house.  It 
was  only  bit  by  bit  that  Bren4a  got  her  bearings  in 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  137 

the  new  waters  that  were  so  unlike  the  familiar  cur- 
rents of  London,  big,  easy-going,  tolerant  London, 
where  no  one  minded  what  you  called  yourself  so  long 
as  you  were  agreeable,  and  where  no  one  knew  or 
cared  what  was  thought  in  the  city  on  the  Spree. 
Brenda  was  often  with  the  Erdmanns  and  they  repre- 
sented and  gathered  round  them  the  well-to-do  com- 
mercial class  in  Berlin.  The  Abels  were  Jewish  and 
entertained  army  people  because  Elsa  liked  them,  and 
artists  because  Siegmund  loved  music  and  painting. 
Besides,  he  came  of  one  of  those  wealthy  Jewish 
families  who,  by  tradition,  are  hospitable  to  artists 
in  every  German  town.  His  house  was  a  delightful 
one  to  go  to  because  he  and  Elsa  both  possessed  the 
art  of  entertaining  and  the  money  to  do  it  well.  Their 
divergencies  in  taste  did  not  result  in  a  want  of  har- 
mony on  the  whole,  but  in  amusing  variety,  and 
though  Elsa  was  not  satisfied  with  her  social  position 
she  gave  dinners  and  receptions  that  every  one  enjoyed. 
August's  friends  mostly  belonged  to  the  professor 
class,  and  many  of  them  were  agreeable,  interesting 
men.  Brenda  wondered  how  they  could  endure 
August,  and  before  long  judged  that  he  was  not 
endured  gladly  by  his  colleagues.  He  complained  so 
much  of  this  one's  neglect  and  that  one's  pride  of 
place  that  any  one  who  knew  him  could  read  between 
the  lines.  Lothar  received  hardly  any  one  who  did 
not  wear  the  gray  uniform;  and  Brenda  found  that 
the  uniforms  did  not  mix  well  with  civilians.  One 
of  August's  grievances  against  her  was  her  inadequate 
appreciation  of  her  luck  in  being  admitted  to  the 
military  and  professional  circles  of  Berlin.  He  was 
always  reminding  her  of  it  and  informing  her  that 
socially  she  had  risen  in  the  world  through  her  mar- 
riage. At  first  Brenda  could  not  understand  why  his 
grudge  against  her  was  so  bitter,  but  she  saw  that 
everything  she  said  and  did,  even  the  clothes  she  wore, 
her  imperfect  German,  and  her  ways  in  the  house 


138  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

exasperated  him,  while  on  the  contrary  Siegmund  liked 
her  from  the  first  and  stood  by  her  as  a  friend.  So  she 
did  not  look  forward  to  Sunday  dinner  with  the  Zorns, 
because  she  knew  that  in  one  way  or  the  other  there 
would  be  unpleasantness.  If  she  opened  her  mouth 
she  would  give  offense,  and  if  she  remained  silent  she 
would  be  asked  whether  anything  was  the  matter. 
Besides,  if  you  preserve  an  artificial  silence  in  order  to 
avoid  trouble,  you  probably  end  by  looking  rather 
depressed.  This,  in  fact,  had  happened  recently  at 
the  Zorns,  and  August,  staring  across  the  table,  had 
said  in  a  challenging  voice: 

"Why  does  not  Brenda  join  in  our  conversation? 
Can't  she  understand  what  we  say,  or  is  she  out  of 
humor  ?" 

The  attention  of  the  whole  family  circle  was  instantly 
fixed  on  Brenda,  and  she  had  been  asked  if  anything 
was  the  matter.  Siegmund  had  filled  up  her  glass 
with  wine,  Frau  Erdmann  said  that  she  had  no  patience 
with  moody  people,  and  Lothar  had  looked  annoyed. 

"When  you  are  with  my  family  I  wish  you  would 
make  yourself  agreeable  to  them,"  he  said  as  they 
walked  home.  "It  costs  nothing,  and  in  Germany 
a  young  woman  is  expected  to  please  her  elders." 

"I'm  afraid  some  of  them  are  determined  not  to  be 
pleased,"  said  Brenda. 

"I  noticed  myself  at  dinner  that  you  looked  like 
sour  milk  and  hardly  spoke." 

"It  isn't  always  easy  .  .  ."  began  Brenda,  but  was 
stopped,  partly  by  a  ridiculous  wish  to  cry  and  partly 
by  a  marital  lecture  on  the  duties  of  a  wife  towards 
her  lord's  relatives. 

"What  had  I  better  wear?"  she  said  to  Lothar 
when  Sunday  came  and  she  was  going  to  dress.  "Do 
you  think  any  particular  color  would  soothe  August  ?" 

Lothar  instantly  flew  into  a  passion,  hammered  on 
the  table  with  his  fist,  and  said  she  took  a  delight  in 
insulting  his  family.  Brenda  turned  white,  wished 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  139 

she  had  never  tried  to  be  funny  about  such  a  serious 
subject  as  August,  and  said  she  had  not  meant  any 
harm.  She  was  as  apologetic  and  peaceable  as  she 
could  be  until  Lothar  said  he  had  been  a  fool  to  expect 
an  English  girl  to  fulfill  the  demands  made  on  a  wife 
in  Germany,  where  family  life  reached  heights  of 
amity  and  affection  undreamed  of  by  other  nations. 
She  then  lost  control  for  a  moment,  and  said  that  she 
had  not  seen  as  much  quarreling  and  bad  temper  at 
home  in  twenty-two  years  as  she  had  suffered  from 
in  three  months  in  Berlin.  It  was  an  unwise  thing 
to  say,  because  it  provoked  a  new  and  worse  explosion. 
If  she  had  remained  as  gentle  as  a  dove,  bearing  all 
things  patiently,  Lothar's  wrath  would  have  spent 
itself  in  time,  and  there  would  have  been  fair  weather 
till  this  or  that  provoked  it  again.  But  to  say  that 
he  and  his  people  had  tempers  and  were  quarrelsome 
cut  him  to  the  quick,  and  he  raged  as  he  had  never 
raged  before  in  proof  of  the  family  harmony.  When 
he  subsided  it  was  nearly  time  to  go  to  the  Zorns,  and 
Brenda  had  to  dress  in  a  jiffy,  because  to  keep  Lothar 
waiting  in  his  present  mood  was  more  than  she  dared 
risk.  They  had  found  out  that  dinner  was  at  two, 
so  she  put  on  a  dark  blue  coat  and  skirt  with  a  white 
crepe  de  Chine  blouse  that  had  cost  five  guineas  but 
looked  simple  to  the  ignorant  eye.  She  had  meant 
to  keep  on  her  hat,  but  the  pressure  of  the  family 
assembled  in  the  hall  to  welcome  them  obliged  her 
to  give  it  to  the  maid  waiting  to  hang  it  up.  "Peace 
at  any  price,"  she  thought,  but  found  as  usual  that 
peace  is  impossible  when  one  side  means  war.  Her 
hostess,  Mina,  was  dressed  to-day  in  a  flowing  shape- 
less garment  of  vivid  green  silk,  cut  so  as  to  show  the 
poor  woman's  brown  bony  neck  and  the  hard  collar- 
less  line  unsoftened  by  lace  or  chiffon.  An  enormous 
old-fashioned  diamond  brooch  fastened  it  in  front, 
her  shoes  and  stockings  were  a  yellowish  tan,  and  her 
thin  colorless  hair  was  scraped  back  from  her  face 


140  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

and  twisted  in  a  little  knot  on  the  top  of  her  head. 
She  looked  hot  with  anxiety  and  hard  work,  but  she 
stood  in  the  center  of  the  room  surrounded  by  an 
admiring  family  circle,  who  all  said  her  new  gown  was 
a  colossal  success. 

"Very  becoming,"  said  Lothar,  when  asked  his 
opinion. 

"Very  tasteful,"  said  Frau  Erdmann,  who  wore 
her  brown  satin,  "very  flattering  to  your  guests  to 
put  it  on.  Elsa,  our  Parisian,  has  also  come  in  her 
new  velvet.  Has  your  wife  nothing  in  her  wardrobe 
then,  Lothar,  but  these  short  cloth  skirts  and  little 
Backfisch  blouses?  I  hear  of  her  appearing  in  great 
elegance  at  other  places.  But  I  suppose  for  her  hus- 
band's family  anything  is  good  enough." 

Brenda  understood  the  allusion.  Some  days  ago 
she  had  been  at  a  large  dinner  at  the  Prasslers,  and 
luckily  Elsa  had  told  her  just  in  time  to  dress  as  she 
would  have  done  in  England.  She  had  worn  her 
wedding  gown  and  her  pearls,  and  had  charmed  every 
one  not  as  demented  by  Anglophobia  as  the  Erdmanns 
and  the  Zorns. 

"I'd  have  come  in  silk  attire  to-day  if  I'd  known 
they'd  like  it,"  she  whispered  ruefully  to  Siegmund, 
"but  I  never  know  what  they  want.  Last  Sunday 
I  put  on  a  voile  gown  and  a  fur  coat  and  they  said  I 
had  overdressed  for  the  simple  family  circle.  August 
talked  at  me  all  the  afternoon." 

"Never  mind,"  said  Siegmund.  "Next  Sunday  the 
family  meets  at  my  house  and  you  shall  wear  a  potato 
sack  if  it  pleases  you." 

"I'll  wear  an  embroidered  teagown  if  it  makes  them 
happy.  I  should  feel  a  worse  fool  in  that  than  in  a 
potato  sack  at  this  time  of  day." 

"They  know  nothing  of  such  things,"  said  Sieg- 
mund. "I  should  not  let  them  vex  you.  It  will 
spoil  your  hunger  and  we  always  have  a  good  dinner 
here.  Mina  is  a  perfect  cook." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  141 

"We  are  having  awful  dinners!"  sighed  Brenda. 
"Every  day  there  are  scenes." 

"How  is  that?" 

"My  mother-in-law  engaged  a  pearl  for  us  and  she 
can't  cook." 

"Why  don't  you  send  her  away?" 

"Lothar  will  not.  She  was  engaged  for  three 
months,  so  we  should  have  to  pay  her  wages.  He 
thinks  I  ought  to  train  her." 

"Would  that  be  impossible?" 

"How  can  one  train  another  when  one  knows 
nothing?  Besides,  the  pearl  is  three  times  my  weight 
and  throws  things  about  if  I  go  near  the  kitchen. 
She  cheats  us,  too." 

Siegmund's  wise  eyes  rested  rather  anxiously  on 
Brenda.  She  spoke  lightly,  as  if  what  she  said  was 
half  in  joke,  but  he  judged  from  her  general  appear- 
ance that  she  was  not  finding  life  a  joke  just  now. 
He  had  not  seen  her  before  her  marriage,  but  he  saw 
that  she  had  changed  since  she  came  to  Berlin  and 
that  she  did  not  look  well  or  happy. 

"I  believe  that  Lothar  bullies  his  wife,"  he  said  to 
Elsa  when  they  got  home. 

"I've  no  doubt  he  does,"  said  Elsa.  "Lothar  is  a 
bully.  He  is  known  to  be." 

"Can't  you  stand  by  her?" 

"I  can't  defend  her  from  Lothar.  He  has  some- 
thing to  complain  of,  too.  Brenda  does  not  know  how 
to  keep  house,  and  she  allows  herself  to  be  cheated. 
He  says  their  food  bills  are  absurd.  It  is  the  old  story. 
He  was  carried  away  by  her  pretty  face  and  now  finds 
that  she  does  not  suit  him.  Why  didn't  he  marry 
Toni  Lieber?  She  would  have  brought  him  half  a 
million  and  known  how  to  send  the  pearl  packing. 
Brenda  is  not  awake  to  her  duties." 

That  was  what  all  the  members  of  Lothar's  family 
concluded  after  knowing  Brenda  for  a  couple  of 
months,  She  did  not  suit  Lothar  and  she  could  not 


142  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

keep  house.  She  knew  nothing,  meine  Liebe,  nothing 
at  all.  She  had  never  heard  that  you  can  buy  the  roots 
of  parsley  for  flavoring  soup,  or  that  the  giblets  of  a 
goose  must  be  saved  for  a  stew,  or  that  the  family 
washing  should  be  done  by  the  pearl  once  a  month  in 
the  attic,  while  she  herself  opened  the  door  to  callers 
and  did  the  cooking.  She  had  actually  been  shocked 
and  surprised  to  find  Mina  cooking  her  family's  mid- 
day dinner,  although  Mina  had  been  ironing  since  six 
o'clock,  and  she  had  said  that  it  was  cruel  to  let  Mina 
work  like  that  when  she  had  a  headache.  Mina  always 
had  headaches.  She  was  ansemic.  But  was  a  headache 
a  reason  for  allowing  a  family  to  go  dinnerless  or 
perhaps  dine  on  scraps?  Lothar  would  soon  suffer 
from  his  stomach,  the  family  said,  because  Brenda 
did  not  look  after  his  food  properly.  She  did  not 
care  about  eating  herself,  so  she  did  not  know  how 
to  comfort  a  man  with  dishes  so  succulent  and  filling 
that  after  eating  of  them  to  repletion  he  felt  content 
with  the  world.  As  things  were  he  was  never  content. 
His  temper  was  more  on  edge  than  usual,  and  now 
that  he  had  married  an  Englishwoman  his  hatred  of 
England  seemed  to  boil  over  just  as  August's  did. 
For  Brenda's  blood  did  not  count  in  Berlin  and  was 
hardly  ever  remembered.  She  never  thought  of  it 
herself  amidst  the  pangs  of  homesickness  that  made 
her  ache  for  an  English  voice  and  an  English  face. 

She  tried  hard  to  walk  warily  and  refrain  from 
giving  offense.  She  heard  endless  stories  against  the 
Empress  Frederick,  all  of  which  pointed  a  moral; 
and  the  moral  was  invariably  that  no  one  English 
coming  to  Berlin  must  try  to  introduce  English  ways 
or  English  goods  into  this  city  of  supermen.  She 
soon  knew  that  unless  she  committed  arson  her  London 
chairs  and  tables  must  remain  as  witnesses  against 
her,  rousing  that  curious  blend  of  grudge  and  disap- 
proval that  is  the  keynote  of  German  Anglophobia. 
But  most  of  all  she  felt  that  she,  herself,  moved  in  an 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  143 

aura  she  could  not  disperse,  that  it  emanated  from  the 
British  Empire,  and  that  at  the  worst  it  excited  hos- 
tility, at  the  best,  estrangement.  She  liked  some  of 
Lothar's  brother  officers  and  some  of  their  women- 
folk, but  she  never  felt  quite  at  home  amongst  them. 
No  doubt  the  fact  that  she  was  not  free  to  choose 
her  friends  made  a  difference.  In  this  respect  Lothar 
imposed  his  will  absolutely.  It  was  his  house  and 
no  one  should  be  asked  to  it  without  his  approval, 
nor  should  Brenda  go  to  any  house  without  his  per- 
mission. And  his  exclusions  were  not  her  exclusions. 
He  hated  Jews,  he  sniffed  at  artists,  he  looked  down 
on  business  men.  In  fact,  he  avoided  all  civilians 
except  those  in  his  family  and  some  whose  wealth 
acted  as  a  magnet.  At  first  the  everlasting  uniforms 
amused  Brenda.  The  men  who  wore  them  had  their 
own  code  of  manners  and  it  was  not  the  English  code, 
but  at  any  rate  they  had  formulas  of  politeness  to- 
wards women.  They  were  not  babyish,  quarrelsome 
pedants  like  August.  Some  were  gentlemen.  Some, 
in  her  opinion,  were  not,  in  spite  of  their  swagger  and 
in  spite  of  their  titles.  One  day  at  the  Abels  Elsa 
asked  a  Baron  Amsing,  a  lieutenant  in  a  cavalry  regi- 
ment, what  use  was  made  of  the  long  lance  she  had 
seen  him  ride  with  on  parade.  He  was  a  man  Brenda 
would  not  have  had  in  her  house,  in  her  sister-in-law's 
place,  for  though  he  visited  the  Abels  frequently  he 
treated  them  with  insufferable  arrogance  and 
condescension. 

"What  is  your  long  lance  for?"  asked  Elsa. 

"Damit  hetzen  wir  die  Juden!"  answered  the  man 
with  the  high  cackling  laugh  of  his  kind.  "We  harry 
Jews  with  it." 

Brenda  waited  until  Siegmund  and  Elsa  were  both 
out  of  hearing.  Then  addressing  the  Baron  suddenly, 
she  said: 

"Do  you  know  that  Herr  Abel  is  a  Jew?" 

"Of  course  I  know  it,"  he  answered  sneeringly. 


144  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Brenda  looked  at  him,  and  her  look  was  like  the 
flick  of  a  whip  on  the  hide  of  his  self-esteem.  It  did 
not  condemn.  It  expressed  surprise  at  such  manners. 

"In  England  you  pet  the  Jews,"  he  said.  "We 
know  better  here." 

"Except  when  you  are  asked  to  eat  at  a  Jew's 
table  and  drink  a  Jew's  wine,"  said  Brenda. 

Nothing  happened.  The  man  got  red  in  the  face, 
stalked  away  and  never  spoke  to  her  again.  Nothing 
happened,  but  she  went  home  thoroughly  depressed. 

"I'm  getting  as  coarse-tongued  as  they  are,"  she 
said  to  herself. 


XIII 

MR.  MULLER  sent  his  daughter  her  quarterly 
check  just  before  Christmas  and  told  her 
to  pay  it  into  her  own  account  at  the  Deutscher 
Bank.  He  had  insisted,  when  she  married,  that  her 
income  should  be  in  her  own  hands,  and  Mrs.  Miiller 
had  told  her  daughter  that  financial  independence 
helped  a  woman  over  many  difficult  places  in  married 
life.  But  hitherto  Brenda  had  not  been  independent, 
although  her  first  check  had  arrived  at  Michaelmas. 
Lothar  said  that  the  money  was  wanted  for  the  trades- 
people employed  by  Little  Mamma  to  decorate  and 
furnish  their  flat,  and  that  a  large  portion  of  it  had 
been  spent  on  the  kitchen.  He  said  that  a  German 
father  who  undertook  to  furnish  his  daughter's  home 
fulfilled  his  obligations  even  down  to  such  trifles  as 
saucepan  holders  and  wooden  spoons;  and  that  what 
Brenda  had  sent  from  London  was  only  half  the  affair. 
He  seemed  to  have  some  reason  on  his  side.  Anyhow 
he  took  possession  of  her  check,  and  presumably 
paid  furnishing  bills  with  it.  He  gave  Brenda 
nothing  but  a  bare  weekly  sum  for  housekeeping, 
and  she,  who  had  never  been  short  of  money  in 
her  life,  began  to  have  anxieties  about  making 
two  ends  meet.  Luckily  she  wanted  no  clothes, 
for  though  she  had  married  in  August  her  parents 
had  given  her  furs  and  some  winter  coats  and 
skirts.  But  when  the  second  check  came  she  told 
Lothar  that  she  wished  to  begin  her  own  banking 
account. 

"I  will  not  hear  of  it,"  said  Lothar. 

145 


146  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

He  had  just  come  in,  but  till  he  spoke  Brenda  had 
not  noticed  that  he  was  in  a  bad  temper.  He  was 
scowling  at  the  carpet,  but  when  they  were  by  them- 
selves he  was  usually  scowling  and  chary  of  speech. 
Sometimes  they  sat  together  all  the  evening  in  a  silence 
that  made  her  think  solitary  imprisonment  would  be 
less  oppressive.  If  she  spoke  he  would  look  up  from 
a  book,  answer  shortly  and  immerse  himself  again. 
She  was  not  a  chattering  person,  but  after  a  long 
lonely  day  an  evening  spent  in  this  way  depressed  her 
to  the  point  of  sleeplessness  and  she  would  lie  awake 
wondering  if  life  was  to  go  on  to  the  end  in  this 
atmosphere  of  chilly  failure. 

"My  father  wishes  me  to  have  control  of  my  own 
money,"  she  said  now. 

"What  your  father  wishes  cannot  regulate  your 
life  now  that  you  are  married." 

"But  I  wish  it  very  much  myself,  Lothar." 

"I've  no  doubt  you  do.  You  wish  many  things 
that  cannot  be  done.  Your  money  will  be  placed 
with  mine  in  my  bank  and  spent  for  our  mutual  benefit 
as  I  direct.  That  is  the  German  custom  and  we  shall 
follow  it." 

"I  thought  that  my  father  made  it  clear  that  his 
allowance  to  me  was  to  be  in  my  own  hands." 

"He  may  have  done." 

"Surely  you  remember?" 

"Why  should  I  remember?  What  does  it  signify 
since  I  decide  otherwise?  Has  the  new  check  come? 
We  shall  need  every  penny  of  it  to  carry  us  through 
Christmas  and  New  Year." 

"I  dare  say  we  shall,  and  I  am  quite  willing  to  spend 
most  of  it  on  our  general  expenses;  but  I  want  a  little 
for  myself,  too." 

"What  can  you  want?  You  had  enough  finery 
for  six  women  in  August,  four  or  five  months  ago. 
Women  know  nothing  about  money.  Their  one  idea 
is  to  squander  it." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  147 

"That  is  not  fair,"  began  Brenda.     "I  never  have 

penny  .  .  ." 

She  stopped  short,  as  she  often  did  in  a  tussle  with 
Lothar,  appalled  by  the  sordid  depths  to  which  it  was 
leading  her.  She  would  rather  do  without  money  than 
squabble  about  it.  Yet  her  sense  of  justice  drove  her 
to  speak  again. 

"I  am  sure  that  my  father  wishes  me  to  have  what  I 
need,"  she  said. 

Lothar  glanced  at  his  wife  with  actual  dislike  in  his 
cold  eyes.  Her  beauty  was  under  a  cloud,  her  figure 
was  losing  its  lines,  and  she  had  been  sickly  for  months 
now.  The  stork  was  expected  in  May,  but  the  thought 
of  her  recovery  did  not  present  itself  as  vividly  as  the 
constant  sight  of  her  impaired  looks. 

"You  are  a  bad  manager,"  he  said ;  "you  understand 
nothing  of  housekeeping." 

This  was  both  true  and  untrue.  Brenda  never 
had  kept  house  till  she  came  to  Berlin,  and  she  began 
under  unusual  difficulties,  in  a  strange  country  and 
saddled  with  the  odious  pearl  engaged  by  Little 
Mamma.  She  had  just  replaced  her  by  a  more  prom- 
ising one  and  given  mortal  offense  to  the  family  by 
doing  so.  She  had  also  had  fierce  battles  with  Lothar 
on  the  subject  of  servants,  because  she  wanted  to  keep 
two  and  he  would  not  allow  it.  She  had  offered  to  pay 
for  the  second  herself,  and  he  had  pointed  out  that 
her  money  was  part  of  their  united  income  and  not  in 
any  sense  a  personal  possession.  She  had  been  so 
taken  aback  by  this  repudiation  of  his  covenant  with 
her  father  that  at  the  time  she  had  not  said  much; 
but  when  her  check  came  she  knew  that  she  must  try 
conclusions.  She  was  willing  to  contribute  most  of 
it  to  their  general  expenses.  But  she  wanted  to  follow 
her  father's  instructions  and  open  her  own  account  at 
a  bank ;  and  she  wanted  to  use  a  little  of  it  in  prepara- 
tion for  that  coming  event  in  May. 

"Here  is  my  father's  letter,"  she  said,  handing  it 


148  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

to  him.  "He  tells  me  to  put  the  check  in  the  Deutscher 
Bank." 

"Where  is  the  check?" 

"In  this  envelope." 

"Give  it  to  me." 

Brenda  looked  at  him,  but  he  did  not  meet  her  eyes. 
He  was  scowling,  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  floor  and 
his  whole  manner  proclaimed  his  dissatisfaction. 

"You  are  breaking  your  word,"  said  Brenda. 

That  let  loose  the  floodgates  of  his  wrath.  She 
had  vowed  for  the  sake  of  her  child  that  at  any  cost 
she  would  stave  off  one  of  these  scenes  when  his  tem- 
per exploded  in  such  sound  and  fury  that  she  felt 
shattered  by  it  for  days.  But  her  financial  indepen- 
dence had  become  a  weighty  matter.  The  command 
of  money  would  have  eased  many  of  the  questions 
about  which  they  disagreed,  and  she  desired  it  largely 
because  of  the  peace  it  would  bring.  She  still  strove 
for  peace,  although  she  might  have  known  by  this 
time  that  it  was  not  in  her  power  to  insure  it. 

"In  Germany  men  are  men,"  shouted  Lothar. 
"We  are  not  women-ridden,  as  you  are  in  your 
decaying  country.  We  know  how  to  deal  with  our 
wives.  Your  place  is  in  the  kitchen  and  the  nursery. 
You  will  spend  what  I  allow  you  and  not  a  penny 
more.  I  would  not  have  you  in  my  house  on  any 
other  terms.  Tell  your  father  what  lies  you  please. 
He  can  do  nothing.  I  am  master  and  mean  to  remain 
so." 

Brenda  was  listening,  as  she  usually  listened  to  his 
tirades,  in  silence.  She  wrapped  herself  in  it  because 
she  knew  of  no  other  armor,  but  it  was  not  always 
effective.  Silence  can  convey  reproach,  and  when 
Lothar  was  on  the  high  horse  he  smelled  offense  in  it. 

"Do  you  hear  and  understand  what  I  say?"  he 
asked  now,  bringing  his  fist  down  on  the  table  so 
heavily  that  some  glasses  on  it  moved  and  clattered. 
Brenda  replied  by  handing  him  her  father's  check.  He 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  149 

looked  at  it,  saw  that  it  was  indorsed  and  put  it  in 
his  pocket. 

"It  is  time  that  we  returned  some  of  the  hospitality 
we  have  accepted,"  he  went  on.  "We  must  ask 
people  to  dinner.  But  how  to  manage  it  I  don't 
know." 

"I  don't  either,"  said  Brenda.  "You  can't  give 
dinner  parties  with  one  servant  and  a  boy  like  Fritz, 
even  in  Berlin." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  even  in  Berlin?" 

"Well  ...  we  have  been  to  meals  with  people 
who  keep  one  servant :  a  light  supper  or  the  usual  mid- 
day dinner  of  two  or  three  courses.  Even  then  the 
mistress  must  have  worked  like  a  black  to  have  things 
ready." 

"Why  should  she  not  work?  Does  her  husband 
not  work?  Why  should  a  woman  sit  in  an  easy  chair 
all  day  reading  silly  romances  and  filling  her  head 
with  nonsense  ?  You  would  probably  find  your  health 
greatly  improved  if  you  bustled  about  in  the  house 
as  my  sisters  and  mother  do.  But  we  are  wandering 
from  what  I  have  to  say.  It  is  strange  that  a  woman 
who  considers  herself  intelligent  can  never  stick  to  the 
point.  I  intend  to  ask  the  Prasslers  and  half  a 
dozen  others  to  dinner.  We  can  easily  manage  ten 
at  this  table." 

The  Prasslers  were  go-ahead  wealthy  people,  with 
whom  Lothar  had  lately  become  intimate.  Unfor- 
tunately Brenda  did  not  like  them.  Frau  Prassler  had 
been  a  very  rich  girl  of  Jewish  extraction  and  the 
marriage  had  been  one  of  mutual  convenience.  She 
gained  the  place  she  coveted  in  army  society  and  her 
husband  got  his  debts  paid  and  his  house  run  luxuri- 
ously. They  lived  in  the  upper  part  of  a  large  villa 
in  a  fashionable  part  of  the  Thiergarten  and  enter- 
tained profusely.  Frau  Prassler  was  distantly  connected 
with  Siegmund  Abel,  but  though  the  households  met 
there  was  rivalry  rather  than  friendship  between  the 


ISO  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

women.  Jutta  Prassler,  usually  known  as  "the 
beautiful  Jutta,"  looked  down  on  Elsa,  or  pretended 
to,  because  she  had  married  a  Jew;  and  Elsa  looked 
down  on  Jutta  because  she  was  by  birth  a  Jewess  and 
tried  to  forget  it.  Elsa's  brother  was  an  officer,  but 
socially  a  brother  is  not  as  useful  as  a  husband.  At 
any  rate  the  Prasslers  gave  themselves  more  airs  than 
the  Abels  and  had  had  a  large  dinner  yesterday  in 
honor  of  the  Colonel's  birthday,  to  which  no  civilians 
had  been  asked.  Nor  had  the  officers'  wives  been 
asked.  Jutta  had  been  the  only  woman  present  and 
Lothar  had  come  back  full  of  her  "Geist,"  her  dia- 
monds, her  gown  of  scarlet  brocade  and  her  aplomb 
as  hostess  to  twenty  men.  The  dinner  itself,  the  wines 
served  with  it  and  the  table  decorations  had  all  been 
superb.  To  sit  down  next  day  to  plain  boiled  Ochsen- 
fleisch  with  horseradish  sauce  was  enough  to  make  any 
man  fret  and  fume  at  fate.  A  medley  of  memories, 
scraps  of  talk,  glances,  innuendoes,  all  helped  towards 
his  discontent ;  and  so,  no  doubt,  did  the  wines  he  had 
drunk  and  the  late  hour  to  which  the  revel  had  been 
prolonged.  For  after  dinner  a  few  unmarried  women 
had  joined  the  party  and  there  had  been  dancing  late 
into  the  night.  That  Toni  Lieber  of  whom  Elsa  had 
spoken  had  been  present,  and  Frau  Prassler  had  told 
Lothar  that  she  had  just  become  engaged  to  the  young 
lieutenant  with  whom  she  was  dancing,  that  he  had 
nothing  but  debts,  and  that  she,  through  the  death  of 
an  aunt,  was  richer  than  ever. 

"I  wish  you  would  make  a  friend  of  Frau  Prassler,'' 
he  said  moodily  to  Brenda  to-day,  "that  is  if  she 
would  allow  it.  She  is  my  ideal  of  what  a  woman 
ought  to  be.  I  recommend  her  to  you  as  a  model." 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  imitate?" 

"Her  chid    Her  savoir  vivre." 

"Do  you  mean  her  clothes  and  her  entertainments? 
They  are  both  expensive." 

"Money  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.     She  says  so. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  151 

Of  course  she  is  an  extraordinarily  clever  woman  and 
always  amiable." 

Brenda's  memory  was  busy,  too,  for  a  discussion 
of  this  kind  becomes  a  conflict  of  ideals  and  whole 
ranges  of  thought  lie  behind  the  starved  spoken  word. 
It  outraged  every  effort  and  standard  of  her  life  to 
put  a  woman  before  her  as  a  model  whom  she  regarded 
as  a  personification  of  all  that  women  should  cast 
aside.  She  had  seen  enough  of  the  Prasslers  to  take 
their  measure.  The  man  was  big  and  powerful,  with 
a  low  forehead  and  a  heavy  brutal  mouth  and  jaw: 
a  man  without  pity  or  subtlety,  a  drinker  at  times, 
boorish,  and  easily  stirred  to  wrath.  She  had  seen  a 
great  many  men  of  his  type  since  she  had  married 
Lothar,  and  they  clashed  with  all  her  old  pictures  of 
the  dreamy  kindly  German  and  of  the  shrewd,  knowl- 
edgeable German,  pictures  of  which  her  father  was 
the  prototype.  The  beautiful  Jutta  she  judged  to 
be  as  hard  as  nails,  cynical,  a  coquette  of  the  order 
Germans  call  "raffiniert"  and  by  instinct  hostile  to 
other  women. 

However,  Brenda  did  not  utter  any  of  her  thoughts 
about  the  Prasslers,  nor  did  she  refuse  to  consider  the 
question  of  dinner  parties  given  in  a  menage  with  one 
maid  and  a  mistress  whose  only  desire  just  now  was 
to  live  in  hiding  and  endure  the  ills  she  was  heir  to. 
If  Lothar  wanted  dinner  parties  he  would  have  them 
and  shout  down  her  objections;  and  more  than  any- 
thing else  she  hated  shouting.  So  she  consulted  Elsa, 
got  the  addresses  of  a  waitress  and  a  good  Kochfrau 
and  under  Lothar's  directions  issued  invitations.  She 
wanted  to  ask  the  Abels,  but  Lothar  refused.  They 
did  not  fit  in,  he  said.  This  increased  Brenda's  diffi- 
culties, because  Elsa  took  offense  and  pretended  not 
to  know  there  was  to  be  a  dinner  party.  Little  Mamma 
said  pointedly  that  if  her  son  excluded  his  family 
when  he  entertained  he  must  be  doing  it  under 
influence,  and  Mina  hinted  that  the  simple  wife  of  a 


152  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

professor  could  not  come  to  the  assistance  of  a  hostess 
with  such  grand  ideas.  A  Kochfrau  had  never  entered 
her  house.  She  was  her  own  Kochfrau  and  had  al- 
ways succeeded  in  giving  her  husband  and  his  friends 
satisfaction. 

So  Brenda,  who  had  been  out  a  good  deal  in  Berlin 
and  knew  what  was  expected,  relied  on  herself.  She 
was  shrewd  enough  to  reckon  with  her  own  inexperi- 
ence, and  because  of  it  to  put  her  whole  mind  into  the 
business  and  try  to  think  of  every  detail  and  provide 
against  every  hitch.  When  the  day  came  she  laid 
the  table  herself  quite  early  in  the  afternoon,  using 
for  the  first  time  a  great  deal  of  the  English  glass  and 
silver  given  her  at  her  marriage.  Her  flowers  were 
white  chrysanthemums.  Against  the  muddy  browns 
of  Little  Mamma's  walls  white  and  silver  looked  bet- 
ter than  any  color — at  least  she  thought  so.  As 
she  stood  there,  tired  but  satisfied,  she  heard  the  front 
door  open  and  Lothar's  voice  in  the  hall.  He  was 
speaking  to  some  one  he  had  brought  with  him,  and 
Brenda  looked  around  for  the  quickest  way  of  escape. 
For  she  felt  disheveled,  hot  and  weary,  like  Mina 
when  she  had  cooked  her  Sunday  dinner.  She  had 
worked  hard  all  day  and  wore  an  overall  that  was 
crumpled  and  not  as  becoming  as  it  would  have  been 
a  few  months  ago.  But  before  she  could  get  away  the 
door  opened,  and  Frau  Prassler,  looking  like  a  fashion 
plate  and  carrying  a  great  bunch  of  small,  brownish- 
red  chrysanthemums,  entered  the  room  with  Lothar. 

"Ha,  ha!  we  find  the  good  little  woman  at  her 
duties,"  she  exclaimed  in  the  high  rasping  treble  that 
Brenda  thought  was  the  complement  of  the  raucous 
bark  affected  by  the  men  of  her  world.  "But  why 
white,  meine  Liebe  ?  We  are  not  exactly  a  bridal  pair 
by  this  time,  are  we?  I  bring  you  red." 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  said  Brenda,  taking  the 
flowers  from  her.  She  opened  the  door  leading  to  the 
drawing-room  and  waited  for  the  lady  to  pass  in  before 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  153 

her.    But  Frau  Prassler  remained  where  she  was  and 
fixed  her  eyes  on  the  table. 

"Very  nice!  Very  nice!"  she  said  after  a  pro- 
longed survey,  during  which  Lothar  watched  her 
anxiously  and  Brenda  waited  in  amazement.  "But 
in  a  simple  household  the  wine  and  fruit  should  be 
placed  on  the  table." 

"Of  course  it  should,"  said  Lothar.  "How  quick 
you  are  to  see  what  is  wanting,  dear  friend.  No 
wonder  that  in  your  house  everything  runs  as  if  it 
were  oiled." 

"The  only  effective  oil  in  any  house  is  the  eye  of 
the  mistress,"  said  Frau  Prassler,  still  staring  at  the 
table  with  an  expression  that  seemed  to  Brenda  both 
grudging  and  surprised.  "The  moment  that  is  shut 
everything  goes  wrong.  I  suppose  I  am  not  allowed 
to  make  a  criticism." 

"In  my  house  whatever  you  say  and  do  is  welcome," 
murmured  Lothar. 

"Then  I  must  say  that  I  should  prefer  the  flowers 
I  have  brought.  I  consider  these  insipid." 

"If  you  would  arrange  them  for  us  .  .  ."  began 
Lothar. 

"I  am  going  to  put  the  red  ones  in  the  drawing- 
room,"  said  Brenda  hurriedly.  "I  like  the  white  ones 
here." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  her  mouth  as  quickly 
as  the  flowers  were  out  of  her  hands.  In  a  towering 
passion,  the  signs  of  which  his  wife  knew  only  too  well, 
Lothar  marched  up  to  her,  took  the  chrysanthemums 
and  presented  them  gallantly  to  the  beautiful  Jutta, 
who  was  looking  offended. 

"But  if  your  wife  prefers  to  rely  on  her  own  taste 
and  her  own  knowledge,"  she  said,  "who  am  I  that  I 
should  interfere?" 

Lothar  went  up  to  his  wife  again  and  spoke  in  a 
whisper.  "Frau  Prassler  will  take  tea  with  us,"  he 
said.  "You  had  better  see  that  it  is  presentably 


154  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

served  and  that  you  are  presentably  dressed.     You 
look  like  a  charwoman." 

Brenda  understood  that  she  was  dismissed.  She 
knew,  too,  that  if  tea  was  to  be  served  in  a  civilized 
way  she  must  send  the  Kochfraii  out  for  cakes  and  rolls 
and  make  the  new  pearl  tidy  herself.  It  took  a  few 
minutes  to  give  these  orders  in  a  kitchen  furious  at 
such  an  interruption  and  then  to  attend  to  her  own 
appearance,  which  even  after  attention  was  far  from 
satisfactory.  However,  in  about  twenty  minutes  she 
returned  to  the  dining-room  to  say  that  tea  was  ready, 
and  then  she  saw  the  havoc  that  had  been  made  with 
the  dining-table.  Lothar  had  plumped  bottles  on 
it  here  and  there  and  everywhere,  dishes  of  fruit  stood 
where  she  had  put  ferns  and  flowers,  in  some  cases  on 
the  mangled  remains  of  her  delicate  sprays ;  and  Frau 
Prassler  was  still  engaged  in  dragging  Brenda's  big 
white  blooms  out  of  glasses  and  thrusting  her  miser- 
able little  brownish  red  ones  in  their  place.  She  did 
this  without  care,  but  rather  with  a  sort  of  monkeyish 
malice,  splashing  the  tablecloth  and  giving  cries  of 
mock  impatience  as  she  dismantled  things. 

"Tea  is  ready,"  said  Brenda. 

.  "We  have  nearly  finished,"  answered  Frau  Prassler. 
and  addressing  Lothar  she  said,  "Shall  we  remove  all 
the  white  flowers  or  leave  a  mixture?  Which  do  you 
prefer?" 

"What  do  you  think?"  asked  Lothar. 

"What  does  the  little  wife  say?"  inquired  Jutta. 
"She  must  also  be  consulted.  I  am  sure  she  had  done 
her  best." 

As  she  turned  suddenly  to  look  at  Brenda,  a  heavy 
branch  of  chrysanthemums  in  her  hands,  she  knocked 
down  two  tall  overladen  glasses  near  the  center  of  the 
table  and  about  three  pints  of  water  began  to  spread 
in  all  directions.  A  piercing  shriek,  when  she  saw 
what  she  had  done,  was  presumably  to  express  regret 
and  certainly  expressed  vexation.  Brenda  did  not 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  155 

utter  a  sound.  Lothar  looked  wildly  round,  dashed 
at  some  of  the  folded  napkins  and  began  to  mop  up 
the  water  in  an  ineffective  way. 

"English  phlegm!"  cried  Frau  Prassler,  pointing 
to  Brenda.  "She  sees  our  work  ruined  and  does 
not  even  spring  to  our  assistance.  What  is  to  be 
done?" 

"Will  you  come  to  tea  now,  Frau  Prassler?"  said 
Brenda.  "Never  mind  that,  Lothar.  I  will  see  to 
things  later." 

Lothar  was  now  in  a  mood  when  the  male  curses 
the  female  and  all  her  works.  The  women  had  landed 
him  in  a  quandary,  and  the  woman  he  held  up  to 
Brenda  for  imitation  did  not  show  to  advantage.  A 
pretty  mess  he  and  they  had  made  of  the  dinner-table 
between  them,  and  in  three  hours  the  guests  would 
arrive.  Frau  Prassler  had  not  been  clever  over  it, 
although  as  a  rule  she  was  cleverer  than  other  women 
and  so  seductive  that  she  was  beginning  to  dominate 
his  thoughts  morning,  noon  and  night.  Probably 
Brenda's  unfriendly  manner  had  upset  the  delicate 
equilibrium  of  her  nerves.  She  had  told  him  only 
this  afternoon  that  she  was  supersensitive,  and  that 
she  felt  sure  his  wife  did  not  like  her. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  said  sourly  to 
Brenda  when,  after  a  hasty  cup  of  tea,  the  beautiful 
Jutta  departed.  The  husband  and  wife  were  standing 
together  in  the  dining-room. 

"I  am  going  to  relay  the  whole  table,"  said  Brenda. 

"Is  that  necessary?" 

"Certainly  it  is  necessary." 

She  laughed  a  little  as  she  spoke,  for  the  table 
looked  ridiculous,  disordered,  and  over  a  large  area 
soaked  with  water. 

"I  knew  that  when  we  tried  to  give  a  dinner  every- 
thing would  go  wrong,"  said  Lothar,  and  then  had  to 
be  out  of  the  house  for  a  couple  of  hours.  When  he 
came  back  it  was  late  and  he  had  to  dress  hurriedly. 


156  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Then  his  guests  arrived  and  he  did  not  see  the  dinner- 
table  again  until  he  went  in  with  his  colonel's  wife 
on  his  arm ;  but  he  had  noticed  a  great  jar  of  brown- 
ish-red chrysanthemums  in  the  salon.  The  table 
looked  just  as  it  had  done  before  Jutta  had  disturbed 
it,  all  crystal  and  silver,  big  white  chrysanthemums  and 
shining  damask.  The  fruit  and  the  wine  were  on  the 
sideboard.  Frau  Prassler  looked  at  Lothar,  for  she 
sat  on  his  left  side ;  but  he  was  listening  to  the  colonel's 
lady  and  she  was  complimenting  him  on  his  wife's 
beauty  and  on  the  fine  taste  that  she  had  shown  in  the 
arrangement  of  her  dinner-table. 

"In  these  matters  the  English  excel  us,"  she  said; 
"that  we  must  leave  them." 

"I  do  not  agree  with  you,"  put  in  Frau  Prassler 
sharply.  "In  Berlin  all  decoration  reaches  the  highest 
pitch  of  art  and  civilization.  What  do  you  admire 
here  to-night?  White  is  not  a  color  at  all,  and  at 
a  feast  color  is  necessary.  Besides,  it  suggests  bridal 
innocence  and  draws  attention  to  the  fact  that  our 
dear  friends  are  quite  an  old  married  pair." 

"You  are  very  free  in  your  criticisms,  Frau  Major," 
said  the  colonel's  wife,  looking  at  Jutta  with  uncon- 
cealed dislike.  "What  would  you  have  put  on  the 
table  to-night?" 

"I  should  have  put  dark  red." 

"With  these  brown  walls!  That  I  cannot  believe. 
You  are  too  clever !" 

"But  it  is  true,"  said  Lothar.  "Frau  Prassler  even 
brought  us  some  red  flowers,  which  you  may  have 
noticed  in  the  salon." 

"I  did,"  said  the  colonel's  wife;  "they  were 
ugly." 

"It  is  all  a  question  of  taste,"  said  Jutta. 

"Just  so,"  said  the  colonel's  wife,  and  then  changed 
the  subject. 


XIV 

ALL  through  the  winter  and  spring  Brenda  could 
not  go  out  much,  and  on  the  whole  she  was 
lonely.  She  saw  the  people  she  liked  best 
occasionally,  but  she  saw  most  of  her  husband's 
family,  and  intimacy  bred  no  love  for  them.  She 
settled  down  to  amicable  toleration  of  the  three 
women,  Elsa,  Mina  and  Little  Mamma.  Their  ways 
were  not  her  ways,  but  they  had  qualities  she  valued, 
and  according  to  their  lights,  although  they  criticised, 
they  stood  by  her.  Elsa,  in  a  hard  brusque  way, 
tried  to  befriend  her.  Herr  Erdmann  remained  what 
she  had  always  known  him,  a  pompous,  overbearing 
old  man,  his  foot  heavily  on  his  family.  August  was 
uniformly  disagreeable,  and  Siegmund  Abel  emerged 
more  and  more  clearly  as  the  kindest  nature  and  the 
profoundest  mind  she  knew  in  Germany.  She  often 
thought  that  without  his  friendship  she  must  have 
gone  under,  so  sad  were  her  days. 

Lothar  hardly  troubled  to  conceal  his  feelings,  and 
Brenda  found  herself  in  the  most  difficult  of  positions, 
one  for  which  there  is  no  general  rule.  What  is  a 
wife  to  do  who  considers  marriage  the  most  irrevoca- 
ble of  covenants  and  sees  her  husband  ensnared  by 
another  woman,  or  pursuing  another  woman  ?  Speech 
in  such  cases  is  the  most  treacherous  of  weapons,  lead- 
ing only  to  false  assurances  or  to  anger.  Silence  is 
double-edged,  for  who  can  be  silent  in  the  intimacy  of 
Jife  without  self -betrayal?  Brenda  had  said 


158  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

nothing  when  Lothar  and  Frau  Prassler  pulled  her 
table  to  pieces,  but  they  both  knew  that  she  was  angry ; 
and  at  night,  when  the  guests  departed,  Lothar  had 
said  nothing  about  her  restoration  of  it.  In  fact,  he 
had  been  in  an  amiable  mood,  admitting  that  every- 
thing had  gone  well. 

At  first  Brenda  had  not  been  suspicious,  for  she 
was  not  by;  temperament  a  jealous  woman.  But,  as 
usual,  little  hints  dropped  by  other  people  showed  her 
what  she  might  not  have  discovered  for  herself.  One 
had  met  Lothar  in  the  Thiergarten  with  Frau  Prassler ; 
another  had  seen  him  at  a  florist's  ordering  violets 
and  complimented  Brenda  on  having  married  a  man 
who  paid  his  wife  such  pretty  attentions ;  but  Brenda, 
though  she  did  not  say  so,  had  never  received  any 
violets  from  Lothar.  His  fellow-officers  often  seemed 
to  know  of  his  whereabouts  when  she  did  not ;  and  as 
the  spring  advanced,  she  heard  of  expeditions  that 
were  not  to  include  her,  and  of  which  her  husband 
had  not  spoken.  Little  Mamma  began  to  drop  innuen- 
does about  women  who  were  notorious  coquettes,  and 
Elsa  said  bluntly  that  if  the  beautiful  Jutta  ever  smiled 
at  Siegmund  she  would  tell  her  to  keep  off  the  grass. 

Brenda  would  not  discuss  her  husband  even  with 
his  family,  and  that  made  things  difficult,  because 
they  liked  to  discuss  everything  and  every  one  at  great 
length.  When  she  remained  silent,  they  thought  she 
was  unfriendly  and  gave  herself  airs;  but  they  were 
not  easily  put  off.  If  she  tried  to  change  the  subject, 
they  paid  no  attention  to  her  and  talked  to  each  other ; 
and  one  day  Little  Mamma  and  Mina  arrived  with 
such  solemn  faces  that  Brenda  thought  something 
serious  must  have  happened. 

"Have  you  had  bad  news  ?"  she  asked. 

Little  Mamma  softly  opened  the  door  of  the  dining- 
room  that  faced  the  passage  and  shut  it  again.  Brenda 
knew  what  this  business  portended,  because  she  had 
seen  it  acted  before.  Something  had  to  be  said  that 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  159 

servants  must  not  hear,  and  all  servants,  even  pearls, 
were  eavesdroppers.  When  Little  Mamma  had  satis- 
fied herself  that  she  could  speak,  she  tramped  in  a 
woe-begone  way  across  the  room  and  dumped  herself 
down  in  the  big  leather-covered  easy  chair  usually 
sacred  to  her  son. 

"What  is  Lothar  doing  to-night?"  she  said.  "Can 
you  both  come  to  supper?" 

"I  can,"  said  Brenda.     "Lothar  will  be  out." 

"How  do  you  know  that  he  will  be  out?" 

"He  told  me  so  this  morning." 

"Where  will  he  be?" 

"He  did  not  tell  me,"  said  Brenda  unwillingly. 
"With  some  of  his  friends,  I  suppose." 

The  mother  and  daughter  looked  at  each  other 
meaningly. 

"Is  it  possible  that  your  husband  goes  out  for  the 
evening  and  does  not  inform  you  where  he  is  going? 
Is  that  your  English  conception  of  married  life?" 

"Lothar  is  not  English,"  observed  Brenda.  "He  is 
the  one  who  is  going  out." 

"When  August  leaves  me  for  a  few  hours  in  the 
evening,  I  know  exactly  where  he  will  spend  his  time," 
mewed  Mina.  "I  have  no  objection  to  a  man  wishing 
to  be  with  other  men  in  his  leisure  hours.  August's 
brain  is  so  great  that  no  woman  can  expect  to  con- 
verse with  him  on  equal  terms.  But  I  am  pleased  to 
§ay  that  he  has  the  profoundest  contempt  for  all 
women.  You  may  have  noticed  it.  The  other  night, 
when  you  expressed  your  opinion  so  freely  about 
Wedekind's  plays,  he  said  he  felt  inclined  to  tell  you 
that  your  judgment  was  of  no  value.  But  August  is 
always  a  gentleman." 

Mina  pronounced  the  adopted  word  "shentleman," 
and  the  conjunction  with  August  nearly  upset  Brenda's 
self-control.  She  wanted  neither  to  laugh  nor  cry, 
but  to  keep  herself  to  herself  as  her  old  nurse  used  to 
say.  "Now  don't  slop  over,  Miss  Brenda.  Keep 


160  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

yourself  to  yourself.  We  can't  always  'ave  our  own 
way  in  this  world,  and  it's  babyish  to  cry."  It  was 
a  wrong  use  of  the  phrase,  Brenda  knew,  and  yet  it 
always  came  into  her  head  in  this  connection.  She 
must  not  slop  over,  she  could  not  expect  to  have 
everything  her  own  way,  and  she  must  set  a  guard 
on  her  emotions,  keeping  them  as  far  as  possible  to 
herself.  Such  was  the  English  tradition,  even  in  a 
little  girl's  nursery,  and  she  would  live  up  to  it. 

"Am  I  to  come  to  supper,  then,  without  Lothar?" 
she  asked. 

"If  you  have  any  appetite,"  said  Little  Mamma 
solemnly. 

At  that  moment  the  door-bell  rang,  and  before 
anything  more  was  said  Elsa  marched  into  the  room, 
bringing  with  her  her  usual  air  of  prosperity  and 
brusque  good-will. 

"Siegmund  has  sent  me  to  ask  you  to  supper  to- 
night," she  said  to  Brenda  almost  at  once.  "The  car 
shall  fetch  you  and  bring  you  back." 

Brenda  looked  from  one  woman  to  the  other,  and 
saw  that  they  were  all  bristling  with  indignation. 

"But  what  is  happening  to-night?"  she  asked. 

"She  does  not  know,"  groaned  Little  Mamma.  "She 
has  not  understood  how  to  win  my  beloved  boy's  con- 
fidence and  affection." 

"I  cannot  be  too  thankful  that  August  looks  down 
on  women  as  he  does,"  bleated  Mina.  "He  told  me 
the  other  day  that  a  woman  could  not  even  be  good 
unless  she  had  a  man  to  help  her." 

"Quatsch!"  said  Elsa  shortly.  "Women  don't  run 
after  August  as  they  do  after  Lothar." 

"I  wish  you  would  tell  me  what  you  all  mean," 
cried  Brenda.  "What  is  happening  to-night?" 

"Lothar  is  giving  a  supper  to  twenty  people  in  honor 
of  Frau  Prassler's  birthday,"  said  Elsa.  "Her  hus- 
band, as  you  know,  is  away." 

"I    didn't   know,"    murmured    Brenda.      She    felt 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  161 

confused  and  annoyed,  but  her  instinct  was  to  defend 
Lothar. 

"There  is  safety  in  numbers,"  she  said.  "A  supper 
to  which  twenty  people  are  invited  is  .  .  ." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Well  ...  a  supper  to  twenty  people !  If  he  were 
entertaining  the  beautiful  Jutta  by  herself  in  a  cabinet 
particulicr  .  .  ." 

Frau  Erdmann  shuffled  uneasily  in  her  chair  and 
cleared  her  throat. 

"A  virtuous  young  wife  should  not  know  that  such 
things  exist,"  she  pointed  out.  "They  are  a  French 
invention." 

Brenda  was  virtuous,  but  neither  deaf  nor  blind, 
so  she  knew  enough  of  the  underworld  in  Berlin  to 
know  that  the  devil  would  have  been  pleased  with 
its  flourishing  condition;  and  by  the  underworld  she 
did  not  mean  the  poor,  but  the  vicious.  It  would  not 
have  surprised  her  to  find  that  the  beautiful  Jutta  took 
her  pleasures  with  it,  in  secret  and  expensively. 

"Aber  Brenda,"  said  Mina,  "you  forget  what  such 
a  supper  costs.  They  will  drink  champagne." 

"No  doubt,"  said  Brenda. 

"If  you  did  your  duty  as  a  wife  you  would  stop  it, 
even  now,  at  the  eleventh  hour,"  said  Little  Mamma. 

"How  can  I  possibly  do  that?"  cried  Brenda. 

"You  could  telegraph  to  Frau  Prassler  in  Lothar's 
name  and  tell  her  he  was  called  away  on  urgent  busi- 
ness, that  the  supper  would  not  take  place  and  that 
she  must  inform  the  other  guests,"  said  Mina.  "In 
August's  opinion  that  would  be  the  best  course,  but 
it  nejeds  courage;  possibly  more  than  a  woman  ever 
possesses.  You  would  not  tell  Lothar  what  you  had 
done  till  it  was  too  late  for  him  to  give  counter-orders. 
Naturally,  he  would  be  annoyed." 

"Yes!  I  think  we  may  take  it  that  he  would  be 
annoyed,"  said  Brenda. 

"I  should  insist  on  going  to  the  supper  myself  and 


1 62  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

taking  the  head  of  the  table,"  said  Elsa.  "If  a  little 
snake-cat  like  Jutta  got  hold  of  Siegmund,  I  should 
simply  trample  on  her." 

"I  wish  I  could  trample,"  said  Brenda  reflectively. 
"I'm  sure  that  it  is  a  useful  thing  to  do  in  some  cases." 

"I  should  sit  on  Lothar's  knee,  put  my  arms  round 
his  neck  and  ask  him  if  he  still  loved  his  little  wife," 
said  Little  Mamma,  whose  ponderous  body  and  com- 
manding spirit  did  not  shut  out  a  strain  of  sugary 
sentiment  that  never  touched  the  cold  English  heart  of 
her  daughter-in-law. 

None  of  these  plans  commended  themselves  to 
Brenda,  and  with  some  difficulty  she  avoided  com- 
mitting herself  to  one  and  all  of  them.  The  three 
ladies  stayed  some  time,  hoping  that  Lothar  would 
come  home  and  promising,  if  he  did,  to  speak  plainly 
to  him.  But  he  did  not  come,  and  at  last,  with 
gloomy  faces,  they  departed.  It  had  been  discovered 
that  Elsa  meant  to  regale  Brenda  with  venison  and 
champagne  as  balm  to  her  wounded  feelings,  so  Little 
Mamma  had  magnanimously  withdrawn  her  invitation, 
only  observing  that  life  became  sad  when  old  people 
found  themselves  persistently  neglected.  A  sharp  but 
short  altercation  proved  that  the  younger  members  of 
the  family  had  twice  as  many  meals  with  her  as  with 
each  other;  and  then,  assuring  Elsa  that  she  would 
be  ready  when  the  car  arrived,  Brenda  shut  the  door 
after  them.  When  she  had  done  so  she  went  into  the 
kitchen  to  tell  the  cook  no  supper  would  be  required, 
and  as  she  came  away  Lothar  let  himself  into  the 
hall. 

"Tell  Fritz  to  come  to  my  dressing-room,"  he  said 
to  his  wife. 

Fritz  was  Lothar's  servant,  a  clumsy  young  peasant 
in  uniform,  bullied  by  his  master  and  befriended  by 
Brenda  whom  he  adored.  He  looked  after  Lothar's 
clothes,  waited  at  table,  broke  glass  and  china,  and 
muddled  every  errand  intrusted  to  him.  When 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  163 

Lothar  struck  him  he  blubbered,  when  the  cook 
quarreled  with  him  he  answered  her  back  and  threat- 
ened to  thrash  her.  Brenda  found  that  he  had  a  dog's 
patience  and  fidelity,  but  none  of  the  knowledge  or 
deftness  you  require  for  a  parlormaid;  and  he  was 
her  only  substitute  for  a  parlormaid.  She  knew 
that  he  was  in  the  kitchen  when  her  husband  asked 
for  him,  and  she  thought  that  Lothar  might  have 
rung  for  the  boy  himself.  One  of  the  pin-pricks  that 
she  felt  in  her  daily  life  was  her  husband's  way  of 
issuing  orders  in  surly  tones.  The  discourtesy  of  it 
always  rankled,  and  to-night  it  angered  her.  She 
said  nothing,  but  returned  to  the  dining-room  and 
rang  the  bell.  Lothar  followed  her. 

"Did  you  hear  what  I  said?"  he  cried,  raising  his 
voice  unnecessarily.  "Isn't  the  fellow  in  the  kitchen? 
Have  you  sent  him  out  again  on  some  fool's  errand 
just  when  I  want  him?" 

As  he  spoke  the  door  opened  and  Fritz  appeared, 
standing  at  attention  and  saluting  with  grave  decorum 
when  his  master  addressed  him  as  a  stupid  beast  and 
told  him  to  get  a  bath  ready  at  once.  Brenda  sat  down 
in  an  easy  chair  that  she  habitually  used.  On  a  table 
near  her  were  some  books  and  magazines,  her  work- 
basket,  and  a  pot  of  pink  tulips  that  Siegmund  had 
brought  her  last  week.  On  the  dinner-table  were  the 
tea  things,  and  Lothar  noticed  at  once  that  four  cups 
had  been  used. 

"Who  has  been  here?"  he  asked. 

"Your  mother  and  sisters." 

"All  three  of  them!  Had  they  been  invited?  I 
had  not  been  told." 

"They  came  unexpectedly." 

"Had  they  arranged  with  each  other  to  meet  here, 
then?" 

"I  did  not  ask  them  that." 

Brenda  wanted  to  act  with  dignity  and  wisdom, 
but  she  could  not  conceal  the  fact  that  she  was  troubled. 


164  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Her  very  reticence  showed  it  and  so  did  her  face. 

"Well!"  said  Lothar,  getting  up.  "I'll  say  good 
night.  I  may  be  late." 

"Good  night !"  said  Brenda. 

"What's  it  all  about?"  asked  Lothar.  "What  have 
my  mother  and  sisters  been  saying  to  you?" 

On  the  spur  of  the  moment  Brenda  decided  to  tell 
him.  If  she  could  have  kept  her  knowledge  from  him 
she  would  probably  have  done  so,  but  she  knew  that 
next  time  he  met  any  of  his  family  the  affair  would 
be  brought  forward  and  discussed  in  every  key. 

"They  told  me  you  were  giving  a  supper  party  to- 
night in  honor  of  Frau  Prassler's  birthday,"  she  said. 

"How  did  they  ferret  it  out?  Have  you  been 
opening  my  letters  ?" 

"They  came  to  ask  me  to  supper.  At  least,  Elsa 
is  sending  the  car  for  me.  It  is  time  for  me  to  go  and 
get  ready." 

"Curse  all  female  mischief-makers,"  roared  Lothar. 
"Have  I  a  right  to  ask  my  friends  to  supper  or  have  I 
not?  Answer  me  that !" 

"I  should  say  that  you  had  not,"  replied  Brenda. 
"We  can't  afford  it." 

"What  we  can  afford  is  not  your  business.  I  am 
the  judge  of  that,  as  I  have  often  told  you." 

Brenda  was  the  last  woman  in  the  world  to  deal 
effectually  with  a  man  like  Lothar.  She  possessed 
none  of  the  coarse  fighting  qualities  necessary  to  worst 
him,  and  she  felt  degraded  by  a  wrangle.  Her  nature 
was  contemplative,  peaceable  and  affectionate.  Her 
strength  lay  in  her  candor  and  intelligence.  She 
found  happiness  in  books,  flowers,  music,  in  sane 
friendships,  and  in  the  little  everyday  events  of  life. 
Quarrels  distressed  her  beyond  measure,  and  it  was 
easier  to  submit  than  to  resist  except  when  her  sense 
of  right  and  wrong  was  called  into  play.  Since  the 
day  of  her  dinner  party  and  of  Frau  Prassler's  imper- 
tinent interference  with  her  table,  various  small  signs 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  165 

had  confirmed  the  impression  she  had  received  then: 
the  impression  of  an  intimacy  that  was  hostile  to  her 
and  had  gone  considerable  length.  Lothar  was  more 
difficult  to  please  than  he  had  ever  been  before,  more 
surly  and  in  a  state  of  restlessness  that  she  could  read 
like  an  open  book.  He  watched  for  letters  and  tele- 
grams, he  rushed  to  the  'phone  himself,  he  stayed  out 
for  hours  together  when  she  knew  he  might  have  been 
at  home.  In  fact,  he  hardly  troubled  to  conceal  his 
state  of  mind  from  his  wife,  and  lately,  in  speaking  of 
a  woman  notoriously  neglected  by  her  husband,  he  had 
taken  the  man's  part. 

"If  a  wife  cannot  hold  her  husband  she  deserves  to 
lose  him,"  he  had  said. 

Brenda  had  not  disputed  the  point.  She  knew  by 
this  time  that  their  moral  views  were  divergent,  and 
that  Lothar  was  in  the  world  to  enjoy  himself  to  the 
best  of  his  ability.  She  did  not  know  what  more 
she  could  say  to-night  about  the  supper  party,  because 
she  had  never  yet  spoken  to  him  about  his  attachment 
to  Frau  Prassler.  She  shrank  from  an  argument  that 
could  avail  her  nothing;  for  she  felt  sure  that  he 
would  deny  it  and  go  his  ways.  But  she  felt  weary 
and  sick  at  heart,  and  it  was  without  any  idea  of 
vexing  him  that  she  took  a  book  from  the  table  and 
opened  it.  To  her  horror  and  amazement  he  dashed 
forward,  snatched  it  violently  from  her  hands  and 
hurled  it  across  the  room. 

"Insolence  I  will  not  endure/'  he  shouted. 

Brenda  felt  so  stunned  by  this  onslaught  that  at 
first  she  said  nothing. 

"When  I  speak  you  will  answer,"  screamed  Lothar, 
and  banged  his  fist  on  the  table.  "It  is  your  usual 
trick,  to  treat  me  as  if  I  were  beneath  your  notice. 
I  will  show  you  that  I  am  not." 

"But  I  have  nothing  to  say/'  answered  Brenda. 
"You  lay  down  the  law  and  I  listen.  That  is  how 
you  interpret  our  relationship,  so  why  have  any 


166  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

arguments?  Let  us  wish  each  other  a  pleasant 
evening  and  say  no  more  about  it." 

"I  forbid  you  to  go  to  the  Abels  to-night,"  said 
Lothar.  "I  mark  my  displeasure  in  that  way.  L^t 
the  Jew  know  that  I  will  not  allow  my  wife  and  sister 
to  intrigue  against  me  behind  my  back." 

When  Lothar  was  annoyed  with  the  Abels  he  always 
spoke  of  Siegmund  as  the  Jew;  and  by  this  time 
Brenda  knew  that  in  her  husband's  family  quarrels 
were  noisy  and  of  daily  occurrence,  but  did  not  last. 
Next  week  Lothar  would  probably  speak  of  Elsa  with 
demonstrative  affection,  and  ask  the  Jew  his  opinion 
of  a  new  operatic  star.  Like  a  pack  of  children  they 
were  socially  a  pack  of  ill-mannered,  bad-tempered 
children.  But  Brenda  believed  that  if  she  defied 
Lothar  and  said  she  would  go  to  the  Abels  to  supper, 
he  was  capable  of  using  physical  force  to  prevent  it. 
So,  feeling  in  sympathy  with  those  fabulous  persons 
whom  fate  places  in  the  power  of  giants  as  strong  as 
they  are  tiresome  and  stupid,  Brenda  moved  languidly 
across  the  room  to  ring  the  bell.  She  knew  that  it 
would  be  an  infringement  of  his  dignity  to  ask  him  to 
ring  it  for  her. 

"Will  you  'phone  to  Elsa  or  shall  I?"  she  asked. 

"I  will,  and  I  shall  tell  her  what  I  think,"  said 
Lothar. 

Brenda  did  not  want  a  fresh  brawl  or  she  would 
have  reminded  him  that  the  telephone  was  close  to 
the  kitchen  door  and  that  anything  he  said  could  be 
heard  by  Fritz  and  the  cook.  However,  after  inform- 
ing his  sister  in  German  that  Brenda  was  staying  at 
home  by  his  desire,  he  went  on  in  English  and  dis- 
played a  power  of  invective  that  did  him  credit  as 
a  linguist.  Apparently  Elsa  said  a  few  words,  too, 
for  the  interview  lasted  some  minutes,  and  when  Lo- 
thar came  into  the  room  again  he  looked  red  in  the 
face  and  angrier  than  ever.  Brenda  had  picked  up 
her  Keats,  the  book  he  had  thrown  across  the  room, 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  167 

straightened  out  the  leaves  and  opened  it  at  the  Ode 
to  a  Nightingale. 

"I  have  told  Elsa  that  you  are  not  going  to  them," 
said  Lothar. 

"Yes.    I  heard  you." 

"I  explained  that  I  allow  no  one  to  dictate  to  me 
what  I  am  to  do.  I  am  a  man." 

"I  heard  all  you  said,  but  I  didn't  hear  Elsa." 

"Elsa  said  Quatsch.  That  is  what  a  woman  calls 
argument.  I  informed  her  that  rudeness  was  not 
argument.  Has  Fritz  made  my  bath  ready?" 

"He  has  not  been  in  to  say  so." 

"Why  have  you  not  been  out  to  superintend  him? 
A  wife  who  has  no  consideration  for  her  husband's 
comfort  cannot  be  surprised  if  he  seeks  the  society 
of  those  who  know  how  to  value  him.  Do  not  trouble 
yourself  to  get  up,  I  beg.  Why  should  you  disturb 
yourself?  I  hear  Fritz  coming." 

He  clattered  out  of  the  room  and  Brenda  heard  him 
"washing"  Fritz's  head  because  the  bath  had  taken 
so  long.  Then  the  bathroom  door  banged  and  peace 
descended  upon  the  flat  for  twenty  minutes.  Brenda 
finished  the  Ode  to  a  Nightingale. 

Magic  casements,  opening  on  the  foam 
Of  perilous  seas,  in  faery  lands  forlorn. 

That  always  conjured  up  Treva  and  those  moonlit 
nights  when  the  sea  broke  in  clouds  of  spray  over  the 
rocks,  and  she,  arm  in  arm  with  dear  Andrew  Lovel, 
clambered  close  down  to  the  water.  She  could  see 
the  quiet  pools  left  in  places  at  low  tide,  she  could 
remember  the  delicious  freshness  of  seaweed  and  the 
taste  of  salt  on  her  lips.  All  the  glamour  of  poetry 
was  in  heaven  and  in  earth  out  there,  and  indoors 
the  sane  peace  and  order  of  civilized  life.  She  had 
been  terribly  homesick  lately.  While  Lothar's  passion 
for  her  lasted,  though  she  knew  she  had  been  crazy 


i68  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

to  marry  him,  she  felt  at  any  rate  that  she  had  given 
him  what  he  greatly  desired ;  and  a  woman  of  Brenda's 
temperament  finds  some  satisfaction  in  that.  But 
now  she  neither  gave  nor  received.  His  indifference 
to  her  became  more  marked  as  his  infatuation  for 
Frau  Prassler  grew  deeper.  He  took  no  interest  in 
her  doings  or  pleasure  in  her  companionship.  Directly 
they  were  by  themselves  he  was  morose  and  bored, 
and  if  she  wanted  to  keep  him  in  a  bearable  humor 
she  had  to  have  some  third  person  present;  one  of 
his  fellow-officers  for  choice.  She  would  have  been 
glad  to  avoid  the  beautiful  Jutta  altogether,  but  found 
it  impossible.  Lothar  constantly  went  to  her  house, 
and  asked  her  to  his,  too.  The  day  after  the  supper 
party  he  told  Brenda  that  Prassler  was  back  and  that 
he  and  his  wife  would  come  to  tea  on  Sunday.  This 
one  and  that  one  might  be  asked  to  meet  them,  but 
none  of  the  family  should  come.  He  had  not  forgiven 
them  yet. 

"Suppose  they  come  unasked?"  suggested  Brenda. 

"That  we  must  risk,"  decided  Lothar. 

So  what  happened  on  Sunday  annoyed  him  ex- 
tremely. The  room  seemed  to  be  full  of  uniforms 
and  high  harsh  voices.  The  beautiful  Jutta  sat  among 
them  in  a  marvelous  creation  of  velvet  and  sables, 
Lothar  had  just  found  a  corner  at  his  charmer's  side, 
and  all  was  going  merry  as  a  marriage  bell,  when  the 
door  opened  and  in  walked  August,  Mina  and  their 
two  potato-nosed  children — the  two  elder  ones,  both 
boys.  The  whole  family  was  dressed  as  their  class 
does  dress  in  Germany,  and  they  were  all  visibly  per- 
turbed by  the  unexpected  smart  gathering  at  Lothar's 
house.  Perturbed  and  affronted!  For  the  Zorns  be- 
longed to  that  troublesome  breed  of  people  who  are 
socially  uncivilized  themselves  and  resent  civilization 
in  others;  and  what  can  be  more  civilized  than  a 
combination  of  gray  uniforms  and  sables?  August 
was  a  professor  certainly,  but  he  was  an  unimportant 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  169 

one ;  and  since  Mina,  the  ugly  duckling  of  the  family, 
had  married  him,  her  brother  and  sister  had  both 
climbed  to  rather  higher  spheres  in  Berlin  society 
than  they  had  been  born  to.  The  people  in  Lothar's 
salon  this  afternoon  knew  that  grubby  little  professors 
existed,  but  they  were  not  related  to  them,  nor  did 
their  womenkind  look  as  grotesque  as  Mina  in  her 
slate-colored  Reftormklcid,  cotton  gloves,  and  a  hat  in 
the  model  of  1911  as  big  as  a  tea-tray.  The  boys  were 
little  objects,  too,  in  cheap  snuff-colored  suits  lavishly 
trimmed  with  braid.  The  beautiful  Jutta  had  probably 
been  in  the  same  room  with  their  parents  before  when 
she  went  to  Elsa's  large  parties,  but  at  large  parties  it 
is  easy  to  avoid  people.  At  any  rate,  she  did 
not  appear  to  know  them  and  bowed  frigidly  when 
introduced. 

"We  did  not  know  you  had  a  party,"  said  Mina. 
"Perhaps  we  ought  not  to  have  come." 

"I  hope  that  we  are  as  welcome  in  your  brother's 
house  as  we  make  him  in  ours  on  all  occasions,"  said 
August. 

Brenda  did  her  best,  gave  August  and  Mina  tea, 
stayed  the  children  with  cakes,  talked  to  them  all 
pleasantly  and  assured  them  that  they  had  not  driven 
the  colonel  away  by  their  arrival.  He  doubtless  had 
an  engagement  elsewhere. 

"You  say  so,  but  the  moment  we  sat  down  near 
him  he  got  up,"  persisted  August.  "It  was  most 
marked.  Was  it  not,  wife?" 

"Perhaps  he  doesn't  like  children,"  said  Mina, 
offering  her  handkerchief  to  one  of  her  own  who 
badly  required  it,  and  rebuking  the  other  because  he 
was  wiping  his  hands  on  Brenda's  teacloth.  This 
so  flurried  him  that  he  jerked  back  his  chair,  and  in 
doing  so  butted  into  the  beautiful  Jutta  herself.  Her 
cup  of  tea  was  nearly  but  not  quite  spilled  over  her 
velvet  gown  and  some  of  it  did  spill  into  the  saucer. 
With  a  little  shriek  of  anger  and  surprise  she  put  it 


1 70  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

into  the  hands  of  the  man  nearest  her  and  got  up 
to  go. 

"You  didn't  tell  me  it  was  to  be  a  children's  party," 
she  said  to  Brenda  with  an  affected  laugh. 

"But  you  are  not  going,"  cried  Lothar  with  uncon- 
cealed concern.  "You  have  only  just  come." 

"I'm  afraid  I  really  must,"  she  said,  and  would 
not  be  persuaded.  Her  departure  seemed  to  be  a 
signal  for  every  one  else  to  go  except  the  Zorns,  who 
stayed  on  and  on,  not  seeing  apparently  that  Lothar 
could  hardly  contain  his  anger  with  them.  Or  did 
they  see  and  stay  in  spite  of  it  ?  Brenda  hardly  knew, 
for  the  working  of  their  minds  and  the  intricacies 
of  their  quarrels  were  difficult  to  follow. 

"I  hear  your  supper  party  was  a  great  success," 
August  said  when  at  last  he  was  about  to  leave. 

"How  did  you  hear  it?"  snapped  Lothar. 

"Our  cook's  brother  is  a  waiter,"  said  Mina  simply. 

Lothar  shrugged  his  shoulders,  bid  his  sister  a  curt 
good  night  and  returned  to  the  salon. 

"You  engineered  this,"  he  said  to  Brenda.  "You 
arranged  that  the  Zorns  and  their  disgusting  children 
should  tumble  in  on  us  and  spoil  the  afternoon." 

"Do  you  really  believe  that?" 

"Of  course  I  believe  it." 

"I  did  not  know  they  were  coming." 

"You  lie." 

Brenda  knew  that  nothing  angered  her  husband  like 
contemptuous  silence,  and  she  did  not  wish  to  anger 
him.  His  outbursts  of  rage  had  physical  effects  on 
her  that  she  dreaded  for  the  sake  of  her  child.  That 
was  why  she  had  told  him  plainly  that  she  had  not 
known  the  Zorns  were  coming.  But  what  more 
could  she  say  when  he  went  on  to  accuse  her  of  lying? 
What  can  a  truthful  person  say  under  such  circum- 
stances ? 

"Every  one  English  lies,"  screamed  Lothar. 

Brenda  turned  from  him  disdainfully. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  171 

"I  shall  ask  Mina  whether  you  invited  her.  Mina 
is  in  the  highest  degree  truthful,  like  all  Germans.  I 
wish  I  had  married  one." 

"I  wish  you  had,"  said  Brenda,  and  miserable  as 
she  was,  could  have  smiled  because  he  looked  quite 
taken  aback. 

"You  mean  that !"  he  exclaimed. 

"Do  you  imagine  that  I  am  happy?" 
-  "I  don't  think  about  it.     Why  should  you  not  be 
happy?    You  are  a  married  woman  and  have  a  good 
home.     What  more  can  a  woman  want?" 

Brenda  made  no  attempt  to  tell  him,  and  after  a 
few  heated  remarks  about  the  unreasonableness  of 
women  he  was  obliged  to  leave  her.  He  was  on  duty 
at  the  barracks  that  night  and  she  did  not  see  him 
again  until  the  following  day. 


XV 

THE  child  was  to  be  a  German.  That  was 
made  plain  to  Brenda  from  the  beginning. 
The  stork  was  to  be  a  German  stork,  the  baby 
would  live  in  a  Steckkissen  and  be  laboriously  guarded 
from  draughts.  The  nurse  would  come  from  the 
Spreewald  and  wear  the  picturesque  costume  that 
brings  heavy  laundry  bills  to  its  employers:  and  the 
little  citizen's  name  would  be  either  Wilhelm  Gustav- 
or  Sophie  Marie,  after  its  grandparents.  All  these 
things  were  settled  by  the  family  in  conclave  with 
Lothar,  who  had  restored  himself  to  favor  by  the 
simple  means  of  telling  Brenda  to  order  a  large  Braten 
and  have  the  whole  clamjamphrie  to  supper  one  night. 
A  salmon  mayonnaise  in  front  of  the  Braten,  an  ice 
in  the  shape  of  a  stork  to  follow  and  a  few  bottles 
of  good  Rhine  wine  put  even  August  into  a  better 
humor  than  usual;  and  he  proposed  the  health  of 
Wilhelm  Gustav  without  a  single  unpleasant  allusion 
to  the  expected  one's  foreign  mother.  But  after  supper 
she  put  her  foot  into  it  by  confessing  when  she  was 
asked  outright  that  as  names  none  of  the  four  chosen 
pleased  her.  She  actually  liked  the  English  version 
of  two  of  them  better  than  the  German.  William  and 
Mary  were  both  fine  names,  she  said;  Gustav  and 
Sophie  she  did  not  like. 

"Then  you  have  no  taste,"  screamed  the  Erdmanns 
and  the  Zorns  in  chorus;  "they  are  singularly 
distinguished.  A  person  who  cannot  see  that  has  no 

172 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  173 

taste.  The  English  have  no  taste  and  no  art  and  no 
literature.  It  is  well  known." 

Brenda  never  argued  with  the  family  when  it  got 
epileptic  about  England.  You  cannot  argue  with  the 
insane,  and  after  living  among  Prussians  for  six 
months  she  knew  that  however  level-headed  they  were 
in  other  ways  they  were  a  people  possessed  with  regard 
to  England.  She  still  believed  in  the  Germany  she 
loved,  for  here  and  there  she  found  it,  among  kindly 
people  leading  simple  laborious  lives.  But  they  did 
not  occupy  the  foreground.  She  detested  the  modern 
German  foreground  with  its  coarse  efficiency,  its  brag, 
and  its  malevolence.  So  well  informed  all  Germans 
were,  so  cultured,  so  superior  to  the  rest  of  the  world ; 
and  the  rest  of  the  world  did  not  see  it,  but  would  soon 
be  made  to — especially  England. 

Then  Brenda  began  to  compare  the  two  countries, 
and,  as  well  as  she  could,  pass  judgment.  Where  did 
England  .  .  .  her  England,  fail  and  so  deserve  its 
impending  doom?  By  the  mass  she  could  not  tell, 
for  of  high  politics  she  knew  nothing  and  of  economics 
not  much.  She  saw  that  the  poorer  classes  in  Berlin 
were  more  tidily  and  sensibly  clothed  than  in  London ; 
she  saw  that  the  streets  were  cleaner  and  that  the 
restaurants  gave  you  more  for  your  money.  She  knew 
that  you  could  get  delightfully  cheap  seats  at  some 
theaters,  and  that  as  a  rule  neither  love  nor  money 
would  procure  you  seats  for  Wagner  opera,  but  only 
tedious  waiting  in  a  queue  on  Sunday  morning.  She 
had  seen  "The  Merchant  of  Venice"  played  in  Berlin, 
and  found  that  the  superman  took  Portia  not  for 
a  great  lady  but  for  a  giggling  minx,  who  kicked 
up  her  heels  in  the  first  act  and  was  pert  in  the 
third.  She  understood  that  when  summer  came  there 
would  be  open-air  concerts  in  all  the  beer  gardens  and 
cheap  trips  by  steamer  to  Potsdam.  In  fact,  she 
understood  that  in  some  respects  life  in  Berlin  had 
the  advantage  of  London;  but  she  could  not  see 


174  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

that  it  triumphed  all  along  the  line.  In  fact,  she 
considered  that  in  some  ways  England  was  ahead  of 
Germany,  though  she  knew  it  would  be  heresy  to  say 
so.  She  thought  that  London  shops  were  more  con- 
venient and  business-like;  that  English  servants  were 
more  civilized;  that  Englishmen  were  handsomer 
and  better  dressed;  that  the  English  had  pleasanter 
manners;  that  the  educated  people  were  less  boastful 
and  people  of  all  classes  more  good-humored.  All 
these  conclusions  were  concerned  with  the  common- 
places of  experience,  but  the  conviction  that  they  were 
true  was  more  and  more  borne  in  on  her.  The 
subtler  differences  between  the  nations,  her  new 
knowledge  of  the  soul  of  Germany  as  compared  with 
her  lifelong  knowledge  of  the  English  soul  she  could 
not  have  put  into  words  at  all,  but  sensed  them  like 
an  aroma  or  a  melody.  What  puzzled  her  was  her 
own  soul.  As,  after  all,  she  was  German  by  blood, 
and  only  English  by  birth  and  upbringing,  why  should 
every  pulse  of  her  heart  beat  for  England  with  a 
singleness  of  affection  that  nothing  could  disturb  or 
weaken?  There  was  no  doubt  that  it  did  and  that 
she  gave  umbrage  whenever  she  betrayed  herself.  She 
tried  in  vain  to  glide  over  difficult  places,  so  as  not 
to  betray  herself,  but  she  found  that  with  many  Ger- 
mans gliding  was  impossible.  If  you  tried  to  slip 
away,  a  heavy  hand  recalled  you. 

"English  people  never  wish  to  be  Germans,"  said 
August  resentfully. 

"I  suppose  not,"  said  Brenda,  and  asked  after  the 
children;  but  that  did  not  help  her. 

"Why  should  you  suppose  not?"  he  asked.  "Why 
should  you  insult  the  most  civilized  and  progressive 
nation  in  the  world  by  supposing  that  no  one  wants 
to  belong  to  it.  That  is  what  we  find  so  intolerable 
in  the  English.  They  give  themselves  airs,  although 
their  day  is  over.  A  nation  of  vagabonds  who  pretend 
to  be  something  great!  Rotten  to  the  core!  As  you 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  175 

have  been  educated  in  England  .  .  .  educated  .  .  .  God 
save  the  mark  ...  of  course  you  know  no  history 
...  so  you  do  not  know  that  the  whole  Empire  has 
been  got  together  by  robbery  and  murder  and  will 
fall  to  pieces  at  a  touch.  Your  race  is  hated  as  no 
other  race  is  hated,  wherever  it  goes.  Perhaps  you  do 
not  know  that  either." 

"I  do  not,"  said  Brenda.     "I  never  shall  know  it." 

"Can't  you  hear  what  I  say,  then?" 

As  by  this  time  he  was  sea-green  with  fury  and 
bawling  at  the  top  of  his  disagreeable  voice,  Brenda 
could  hear  till  her  head  ached  and  wondered  whether 
the  Empire  would  mind  much  if  in  order  to  stop  him 
she  gave  it  away. 

"Take  it,"  she  said,  holding  out  her  empty  hands. 

"Take  what?" 

"The  British  Empire:  all  I  have  to  give  of  it. 
Carry  it  to  a  corner  as  a  tiger  does  a  bone.  Tear  it. 
Bite  it.  Scream  from  the  housetops  that  you  hate  it. 
Ask  heaven  for  lightning  and  see  what  happens." 

"Are  you  crazy?" 

"I  don't  think  so.  But  I'm  sick  and  tired.  We 
have  a  saying  about  curses  coming  home  to  roost. 
Have  you  ever  heard  it?" 

"Of  course  I  have  heard  it,"  said  August,  and  asked 
his  wife  what  Brenda  was  talking  about,  and  whether 
perhaps  she  was  feverish. 

But  wherever  Brenda  went  she  came  across  August's 
opinions  more  or  less  openly  expressed.  England 
was  the  enemy.  England  possessed,  but  was  too 
decadent  to  keep,  what  Germany  rightfully  wanted. 
English  people  must  not  be  told  plainly  that  the  Ger- 
man sword  hung  over  them,  because  before  long  they 
were  to  be  caught  napping.  But  supermen  appointed 
by  the  Almighty  to  scourge  them  could  not  always 
keep  their  intentions  hidden. 

Sometimes  Brenda  laughed,  sometimes  she  grew 
angry,  often  she  wished  that  she  could  convey  her 


1 76  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

impressions  of  the  national  mood  to  English  people; 
but  when,  for  instance,  she  thought  of  explaining 
August  to  the  Levels  of  Treva  her  imagination  refused 
to  work.  The  Lovels  would  never  believe  that  here 
in  Berlin  whole  tribes  of  unconsidered  Germans  were 
boiling  over  with  hatred  of  them.  They  were  not 
boiling  over  with  hatred  of  Lothar  in  his  uniform 
and  August  raving  in  his  chair.  They  would  have 
seen  that  Lothar  was  a  smart,  personable  officer,  faith- 
ful to  his  duty  but  distastefully  arrogant.  Then  they 
would  have  thought  no  more  about  him.  As  for 
August,  you  could  not  conceive  that  such  an  offensive 
worm  had  ever  come  across  their  path. 

If  he  had  they  would  have  used  a  pouncet-box  and 
passed  him  by.  Was  it  here  that  England's  danger 
lay?  In  its  blindness  to  the  sharpened  sword  and  its 
indifference  to  venomous  worms?  Or  was  the  sword 
of  Britain  rusty  and  the  lion  become  a  sheep,  bleating 
about  the  easily  hurt  feelings  of  a  great  friendly 
nation?  In  no  single  instance  did  Brenda  find 
friendliness  in  Germany  towards  England,  although 
in  many  cases  people  treated  her  kindly,  explaining 
always  in  the  tactful  German  way  that  they  had  no 
quarrel  with  English  individuals,  but  only  with  Eng- 
lish politics  and  manners.  As  for  proffers  of  friend- 
ship from  England,  Brenda  heard  them  openly  spoken 
of  with  cynical  disdain.  They  were  taken  for  signs 
of  fear. 

For  her  child's  sake  Brenda  tried  to  live  in  an 
atmosphere  of  her  own  and  avoid  all  those  who  broke 
her  peace.  She  read  a  great  deal  and  put  much  fine 
stitching  and  delicate  embroidery  into  little  garments. 
She  tended  the  indoor  palms  the  family  had  given  her 
at  Christmas,  and  when  she  walked  as  far  as  the 
Thiergarten  she  watched  longingly  for  spring.  Lothar 
was  constantly  out,  and  as  she  believed,  dancing 
attendance  on  Frau  Prassler.  She  wondered  if  Major 
Prassler  felt  as  lonely  as  she  did,  and  what  he  thought 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  177 

of  the  affair.  It  had  become  an  "affair."  Brenda 
saw  it  in  the  eyes  of  her  friends  and  heard  it  in  hostile 
innuendoes.  She  herself  was  pitied  by  some  and 
derided  by  others.  The  family  blamed  her  because, 
they  argued,  a  woman  is  not  deserted  by  her  husband 
unless  she  has  been  either  stupid  or  disagreeable.  Any 
man  will  stray  if  he  is  not  cleverly  shepherded,  said 
Little  Mamma.  From  the  first  Brenda  refused  to 
discuss  Lothar  with  his  family,  thereby  offending 
them  mortally.  She  was  very  unhappy  as  regards 
her  husband,  but  full  of  tender  hopes  as  regards  her 
child ;  that  little  citizen  who  might  conceivably  perform 
a  miracle  and  bring  his  father  and  mother  together 
again.  Brenda  thought  she  knew  the  best  and  worst 
of  Lothar  by  this  time,  and  as  marriage  lasts  for 
life  she  meant  to  fulfill  her  part  in  the  covenant  as 
well  as  she  could.  He  was  not  the  man  of  her  dreams, 
but  he  was  the  man  she  had  married,  and  by  his 
side  she  must  dree  her  weird.  A  separation,  or, 
worse  still,  divorce,  had  never  entered  her  head  as 
possible.  The  little  citizen  put  that  outside  the  range 
of  thought. 

But  life  is  difficult  beside  a  man  who  openly  courts 
another  woman,  hangs  upon  her  words,  seeks  her  com- 
pany, and  brings  her  as  much  as  possible  into  his 
house.  Even  if  the  beautiful  Jutta  had  been  a  lov- 
able, warm-hearted  woman,  the  spectacle  of  Lothar's 
infatuation  for  her  must  necessarily  have  frozen  his 
wife.  But  Jutta  was  not  lovable  or  warm-hearted, 
or  even  well  bred.  She  was  smart  with  a  German 
smartness,  that  is  not  a  thing  in  itself  but  aped  from 
Paris  and  Vienna.  Her  arrogance  reached  a  pitch 
that  has  to  be  seen  in  its  native  setting  to  be  believed. 
She  had  a  way  of  sawing  the  air  with  her  hand  as 
she  laid  down  the  law  that  Brenda  had  read  of  in 
old-fashioned  novels,  but  never  expected  to  see  in  real 
life.  You  could  not  argue  with  her.  You  were  not 
permitted  to  speak  even  when  you  knew  that  she  was 


178  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

wrong:  as,  for  instance,  when  she  said  that  no  one 
in  England  read  Shakespeare  now  because  every  one 
there  was  too  ignorant  to  understand  his  archaic  Eng- 
lish. She  added  on  this  occasion  that  she  disagreed 
with  her  country-people  who  all  greatly  preferred  the 
German  translation  to  the  original,  and  that  when 
she  went  to  a  Shakespeare  play  herself  she  usually 
read  the  English  version  either  before  or  after.  "But 
you  are  so  geistreich,  and  have  had  such  a  brilliant 
education,"  murmured  Lothar.  Like  every  one  Brenda 
met  in  Berlin,  she  hated  the  English  and  displayed 
the  puzzling  blend  of  information  and  ignorance  that 
makes  the  average  German  right  in  his  facts  and 
wrong  in  his  judgments.  Compared  with  Brenda,  she 
knew  nothing  of  literature  and  music,  but  she  started 
from  the  point  all  Germans  start  from,  and  maintained 
that  in  England  literature  hardly  exists  and  music  is 
unknown.  She  had  never  been  in  England  or  as- 
sociated with  English  people,  but  she  had  seen  them 
in  Italy  and  Switzerland.  They  behaved  as  if  they 
owned  the  world,  dressed  atrociously,  got  hot  over 
games  and  kept  to  themselves.  They  were  an  effete 
race,  swollen  with  pride  and  greed,  doomed  to 
destruction. 

"I  really  do  wonder  what  would  happen  if  I  told 
some  of  these  people  what  I  thought  of  Germany," 
Brenda  said  to  Lothar  one  day.  "You  all  take  for 
granted  that  you  are  the  salt  of  the  earth,  but  I  have 
my  doubts.  You  are  very  efficient  and  prosperous, 
but  where  are  your  souls?" 

"We  don't  believe  in  souls,"  said  Lothar.  "You 
have  to  admit  that  we  are  efficient  and  prosperous. 
Some  day  you  will  discover  how  formidable  we  are. 
We  shall  leave  you  your  souls;  any  of  you  whose 
bodies  survive.  We  shall  not  leave  you  anything 
else." 

"You  seem  to  think  that  we  shall  have  no  power  of 
resistance." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  179 

"We  are  not  so  foolish.  We  know  the  exact 
measure  of  your  power  and  are  not  afraid  of  it.  We 
mean  to  be  top  dog.  England  stands  in  our  way 
and  must  be  crushed.  It  is  as  simple  as  the  multi- 
plication table." 

"England  has  never  been  crushed." 

"She  has  never  been  attacked  by  Germany." 

"I  constantly  meet  people  who  say  that  you  have 
no  designs  on  us,  and  that  your  navy  is  built  to  protect 
your  mercantile  marine." 

"Our  navy  is  built  to  crush  your  navy.  When  the  day 
comes,  with  the  help  of  our  aircraft  we  shall  do  it." 

It  all  sounded  like  bombast,  and  yet  it  troubled 
Brenda  because  the  longer  she  lived  in  Germany  the 
more  she  learned  to  believe  that  the  whole  nation  was 
being  led  and  trained  towards  this  one  idea.  Under- 
neath the  silly  explosions  of  jealousy  and  hate  there 
was  a  sinister  intention  that  the  great  qualities  of  the 
people,  their  method,  industry  and  brain  power  were 
all  to  serve  at  the  appointed  time.  Then  she  thought 
of  England,  dearly  loved,  generous  and  unsuspicious 
of  evil.  It  would  not  be  warned.  It  would  not 
be  ready.  It  would  pay  an  awful  price  in  blood  and 
tears.  She  began  to  write  home  of  what  she  heard 
in  Berlin,  but  they  wrote  back  of  troubles  in  Ireland 
and  about  the  crazy  doings  of  the  militant  suffragettes. 
In  May  Mrs.  Muller  was  coming  to  Berlin,  and  she 
wrote  in  March  of  summer  plans.  If  they  took  a 
house  at  Cromer,  would  Lothar,  Brenda  and  the  little 
citizen  all  come  over  for  August  and  stay  with  them? 
The  house  in  question  must  be  taken  at  Easter,  and 
would  be  too  big  for  them  unless  Lothar  and  Brenda 
came.  But  Brenda  could  not  get  Lothar  to  make 
plans  so  long  beforehand.  He  said  that  he  would 
probably  be  going  to  England  in  June  on  service  busi- 
ness and  that  he  did  not  know  whether  he  could  get 
leave  in  August. 

So  life  went  on  through  the  early  spring,  slowly  and 


i8o  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

heavily.  Lothar  was  very  Httle  at  home,  and  when 
he  was  did  not  make  himself  agreeable.  According 
to  his  temper  Brenda  could  give  a  good  guess  at  Jutta's 
treatment  of  him.  She  judged  her  rival  to  be  one 
of  those  self-centered  cold  coquettes  who  will  go 
great  lengths  to  enslave  a  man,  but  wish  to  remain 
on  the  safe  side  socially.  Lothar  had  had  many 
predecessors,  and  though  there  had  been  gossip  there 
had  been  no  public  scandal.  Brenda,  who  had  grown 
up  among  estimable,  rather  humdrum  people,  had 
never  met  any  one  before  who  seemed  to  ensnare  men 
like  a  courtesan  and  yet  keep  her  place  as  a  matron. 
She  was  not  ensnared  herself,  so  she  saw  the  beau- 
tiful Jutta  for  what  she  was,  a  vain,  shallow  woman 
who  wore  bizarre,  gorgeous  clothes,  had  dimly-lighted 
luxurious  rooms,  and  though  she  talked  like  a  pedant 
made  eyes  like  a  hussy.  One  night  when  much 
against  her  will  Brenda  had  been  obliged  to  sup  at 
her  house,  she  say  Jutta  and  Lothar  sitting  together 
in  the  small  inner  room  opening  out  of  the  large  salon. 
Jutta  lay  on  a  .divan  all  gold  and  vivid  purple,  her 
oyster- white  gown  was  nearly  as  tight  as  a  serpent's 
rkin,  and  so  transparent  that  at  supper  Brenda  had 
felt  uncomfortable  when  her  eyes  fell  on  it.  Perhaps 
her  eyes  betrayed  her.  At  any  rate,  Jutta's  catlike 
glance  showed  fury  when  it  fell  on  Brenda,  and  from 
that  night  she  grappled  Lothar  to  her  more  closely 
than  ever.  Nor  was  she  content  unless  his  wife  was 
witness  of  her  power  over  him.  She  would  make  any 
excuse  to  inflict  her  presence  on  Brenda,  although 
she  must  have  seen  that  she  was  unwelcome.  The 
sound  of  her  voice,  the  swing  of  her  body,  the  scent 
she  used,  the  falseness  of  her  smile,  anything  and 
everything  about  her  so  wrought  on  Brenda  that  it 
became  a  torture  to  be  in  the  same  room  with  this 
woman,  but  she  was  spared  no  meeting  and  no  humilia- 
tion that  Jutta  could  bring  about.  Every  effort 
that  Brenda  made  to  avoid  her  led  to  such  violent 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  181 

scenes  with  Lothar  that  it  became  easier  to  endure 
than  to  resist.  One  night  early  in  March  when  winter 
had  come  back  to  northern  Germany  with  driving 
snowstorms,  frost  and  ice,  she  found  herself  in  a 
theater,  although  she  had  begged  Lothar  to  let  her  stay 
at  home.  But  Jutta  had  taken  a  box  on  purpose  for 
her,  a  roomy  retired  box  where  Brenda  could  sit  al- 
most unseen;  and  the  play  was  a  new  one  by  a  new 
writer.  The  whole  city  was  rushing  to  see  it  because 
it  outdid  Wedekind  himself  in  bestiality.  That  Brenda 
shuddered  at  the  thought  of  seeing  it  only  proved 
that  she  was  narrow  and  wanting  in  Kultur.  The 
play  was  the  last  word  in  the  macabre,  said  Jutta, 
a  crescendo  of  blood,  lust  and  cruelty.  The  very 
children  in  it  were  wantons,  and  the  men  and  women 
maniacs.  You  shuddered,  but  you  enjoyed;  for 
the  psychology  was  subtle  and  the  language  highly 
poetical. 

"I  have  seen  it  three  times,"  said  Jutta,  gloating. 

"I  would  rather  not  see  it  at  all,"  said  Brenda, 
and  when  Jutta  had  gone  she  tried  to  explain  to 
Lothar  that  horrors  were  not  good  for  the  little  citizen. 
But  he  only  said  that  her  arguments  were  Fraucn- 
gesclvw'dtz,  and  that  it  would  offend  Frau  Prassler 
deeply  if  she  stayed  away. 

That  was  what  constantly  happened,  Brenda  found. 
Under  the  guise  of  kindness  Jutta  did  her  a  bad  turn, 
and  with  honeyed  epithets  she  said  things  that  rankled 
and  made  mischief.  Outwardly  she  was  the  atten- 
tive friend,  bringing  gifts  and  invitations;  but  in- 
wardly she  hated  Brenda  because  she  was  injuring 
her  and  because  Brenda  would  not  kneel  at  her  shrine. 
She  was  trying  to  take  everything  from  the  wife  and 
yet  of  the  two  women  she  was  the  more  angry  and 
dissatisfied.  For  in  a  sense  Brenda  could  only  be 
vanquished  superficially.  She  was  ill  in  body  and 
troubled  in  spirit,  but  she  kept  alive  within  her  the 
soul  that  showed  in  her  tranquil  eyes.  The  horrible 


182  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

play  sickened  her  with  its  falsity  to  life  and 
its  searchlights  thrown  over  an  obscene  underworld 
not  guessed  at  by  the  sane.  The  author  was  not  a 
Satan  but  just  a  Schmutzfink  who  knew  his  public. 
When  in  the  last  act  a  character  called  Dr.  Crippen, 
made  up  in  a  livid  face  and  Victorian  whiskers, 
jumped  through  a  window  on  to  the  stage  and  mur- 
dered a  wanton  just  enjoying  an  epileptic  fit,  Jutta 
breathed  in  sighs  and  murmured  to  Lothar  that  this 
was  genius;  but  Brenda  laughed,  because  if  she  had 
not  laughed  she  would  have  cried  to  think  that  any 
people  in  the  world  were  silly  and  depraved  enough 
to  applaud  such  drivel. 

"In  London  the  censor  would  forbid  this  play,"  said 
Jutta,  looking  annoyed. 

"No  doubt,"  said  Brenda. 

"Yet  you  call  yourself  a  free  people.  Freedom  of 
thought  is  unknown  amongst  you." 

Brenda  allowed  Major  Prassler,  who  made  one  of 
their  party,  to  help  her  on  with  her  fur  coat,  while  Lo- 
thar hung  over  Jutta,  trying  to  discover  the  sleeves  of 
an  elaborate  black  and  gold  creation  trimmed  with  pel- 
try. You  inevitably  thought  in  fashion-article  English 
when  you  looked  at  Jutta's  clothes,  and  could  imagine 
her  wearing  a  hat  decorated  with  legumes  that  on  any 
one  else's  head  you  would  have  called  vegetables. 

"I  would  also  remind  you  that  Dr.  Crippen  was  an 
Englishman,"  said  Jutta  as  they  left  the  box.  "You 
censor  a  play  about  crimes  that  you  commit.  I  prefer 
our  German  freedom  and  honesty." 

"I  like  to  laugh  at  comedy  and  be  thrilled  by  trag- 
edy," observed  Brenda,  who  did  not  dare  to  say  that 
in  a  seaside  place  where  they  had  spent  a  summer  holi- 
day she  had  actually  heard  of  a  play  about  Dr.  Crippen 
given  in  a  barn  by  a  troupe  of  strolling  players.  Some 
of  the  servants  had  gone  to  it.  But  it  had  probably 
been  innocent  low-life  melodrama  compared  with  that 
she  had  just  seen. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  183 

Jutta  did  not  answer  her  because  she  had  gone  on 
ahead  with  Lothar.  When  they  all  emerged  from  the 
theater  they  stood  at  the  top  of  a  tall  flight  of  steps 
slippery  with  half -frozen  snow.  The  storm  was  in- 
creasing, the  wind  howled  past  them,  driving  the  snow 
aslant  before  it.  The  crowd  either  fled  through  it  or 
scurried  into  cars  and  taxis.  The  gendarmes  on  duty 
were  powdered  with  snow,  and  the  whole  open  square 
was  heaped  with  it.  Major  Prassler  had  ordered  his 
car  to  fetch  them,  but  though  he  went  to  look  for  it 
he  did  not  reappear.  Jutta,  whose  temper  had  been 
abominable  the  whole  evening,  seemed  to  Brenda  to 
lose  the  last  vestige  of  self-control.  The  cold  and  the 
driving  storm  were  more  than  she  could  bear,  and  she 
saw  that  the  theater  doors  were  about  to  be  closed 
behind  them.  With  a  sudden  exclamation  of  impa- 
tience she  gathered  up  her  skirts  and  called  to  Lothar 
to  follow  her  and  find  a  taxi. 

Of  Brenda,  who  stood  close  to  her,  she  took  no 
notice  at  all.  But  as  she  turned  to  Lothar  she  slipped 
slightly,  recovered  herself  at  once,  and  in  doing  so 
pushed  against  Brenda,  who  was  taken  by  surprise. 
Brenda  tried  desperately  to  right  herself,  but  failed, 
and  fell  headlong  down  the  half-frozen  flight  of  steps. 
Gendarmes  went  to  her  help.  She  did  not  lose  con- 
sciousness at  first,  but  looked  round  for  Lothar  when 
she  was  helped  up.  He  had  disappeared  with  Jutta 
in  the  darkness,  and  she  could  imagine  that  amidst  the 
noise  of  the  storm  and  the  flurry  of  the  crowd  he 
had  neither  seen  her  fall  nor  heard  her  cry.  Strangers 
helped  her  home  and  that  night  the  little  citizen  who 
was  to  be  a  German  came  into  the  world,  but  after 
drawing  a  feeble  breath  departed  again. 


XVI 

LITTLE  Mamma  was  offended!  So  was  Mina! 
So  above  all  was  August,  the  learned  cackling 
August,  who  had  raised  his  voice  outside  the 
sick-room  and  had  been  requested  to  lower  it  because 
Brenda,  after  great  suffering,  had  fallen  asleep.  The 
impertinence  of  the  woman  from  London  now  usurp- 
ing a  position  of  authority  in  a  good  German  house! 
Her  daring!  Her  offensive  silences!  Her  still  more 
offensive  remarks!  Her  deeds!  Her  money!  August's 
teeth  actually  grated  on  each  other  when  he  talked 
of  Mrs.  Muller's  money  and  her  shameless  way  of 
using  it. 

She  had  brought  a  trained  nurse  with  her  in  case 
she  should  be  wanted ;  and  she  was  wanted.  English 
intrigue  again!  The  worthy  Frau  Henning  had  been 
clean  enough  and  quiet  enough  for  Mina.  Why  not 
for  Brenda,  then?  It  was  not  Frau  Henning's  fault 
if  Brenda  had  been  found  at  death's  door  in  a  carefully 
curtained  room,  lost  to  the  real  world  and  wandering 
crazily  in  one  all  pain.  Frau  Henning  said  she  left 
everything  in  God's  hands  and  fell  asleep  on  the  sofa, 
having  supped  heartily.  The  good  honest  Frau  Hen- 
ning! August  danced  with  rage  when  he  heard  of  the 
way  in  which  Mrs.  Muller  had  summarily  bundled  her 
out  of  the  house  and  installed  the  frigid  automaton 
who  would  allow  no  stranger  in  her  patient's  room 
and  looked  at  August  as  if  he  was  an  insect  of  no 
importance. 

"I  am  Herr  Professor  Zorn,"  he  said,  puffing  out 
184 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  185 

the  organ  he  fed  so  carefully  and  generously  four 
times  a  day. 

"I'll  tell  Mrs.  Miiller  you  called,"  said  the  nurse, 
who  had  been  summoned  by  the  pearl. 

"I  have  come  to  see  my  sister-in-law,"  he  said.  "I 
wish  to  judge  for  myself  whether  she  is  ill  or  merely 
giving  way  to  nerves." 

"Are  you  a  doctor?" 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  it?  A  lay  eye  some- 
times sees  more  than  an  initiated  one." 

"Mrs.  Erdmann  can't  see  any  one  yet." 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  August  began  to  bawl, 
and  Mrs.  Miiller,  coming  out  of  the  dining-room,  re- 
quested him  to  lower  his  voice.  They  had  not  met 
before,  and  in  two  minutes  Mrs.  Miiller  hoped  they 
need  never  meet  again.  She  did  not  know  much  about 
professors,  and  the  titles  on  the  card  he  presented  to 
introduce  himself  impressed  her  less  than  his  harsh 
voice  and  obvious  want  of  manners.  However,  she 
took  him  into  the  dining-room,  and  as  they  sat  down 
she  told  him  that  Brenda  was  seriously  ill. 

"I  am  not  surprised  to  hear  it,"  said  August. 

"No  one  can  be  surprised,  considering  what  hap- 
pened," said  Mrs.  Miiller. 

"What  happened  was  accidental.  I  am  thinking  of 
causes  further  back.  Ever  since  your  daughter  came 
amongst  us  she  has  been  ailing  and  depressed.  A  young 
wife  about  to  become  a  mother  has  no  right  to  be 
depressed.  It  is  her  duty  to  be  cheerful.  But  no  doubt 
Brenda's  constitution  was  undermined  before  marriage 
by  athletics  and  luxury." 

Mrs.  Miiller's  shrewd  eyes  took  August's  measure, 
and  her  attention  fixed  itself  on  what  he  told  her  about 
her  child;  for  Brenda's  letters  had  told  her  nothing 
positive.  They  had  betrayed  more  by  what  they  left 
out  than  by  what  they  said;  and  if  the  Miillers  were 
uneasy  they  told  each  other  they  had  nothing  but  their 
suspicions  to  go  on. 


186  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"I  can  understand  that  Brenda  was  ailing,  but  why 
was  she  depressed?"  Mrs.  Miiller  said  to  August.  "She 
never  was  at  home." 

"It  would  be  better  for  every  one  concerned  if  she 
had  stayed  at  home." 

"I  wish  she  had!  Neither  her  father  nor  I  desired 
the  marriage." 

"On  what  grounds?"  cried  August,  beginning  to 
bristle  at  once.  "Is  a  German  officer  not  good  enough 
for  any  young  woman  whose  father  is  in  trade?  We 
have  different  ideas  here,  I  can  assure  you." 

"Why  was  Brenda  depressed?" 

"Why  is  any  one  depressed?  Such  a  question  has 
no  sense.  When  I  am  depressed  it  is  either  because 
my  food  has  not  agreed  with  me  or  because  something 
has  gone  wrong  with  my  affairs." 

"What  had  gone  wrong  with  Brenda's  affairs?  I 
cannot  suppose  that  her  food  .  .  ." 

"I  am  not  going  to  be  drawn  into  any  Frauenklat- 
scherei,"  interrupted  August.  "My  dignity  forbids  it. 
If  you  want  to  know  what  has  happened,  ask  the  other 
women  of  the  family.  None  of  them  approved  of 
Brenda,  but  she  was  there  and  they  tried  to  make  the 
best  of  it." 

"Why  did  none  of  them  approve  of  Brenda?" 

"My  dear  Frau  Muller!  After  all  your  name  is 
German,  your  blood  is  German.  Your  parents  were 
born  in  Berlin  and  your  husband  is  a  Heidelberger. 
You  must  know  that  the  standard  reached  by  our 
women  is  the  highest  in  the  world,  and  that  Brenda 
with  her  miserable  English  education  and  ignorance  of 
all  a  woman  should  understand,  fails  to  touch  it  at 
any  point.  This  can  neither  be  hidden  nor  denied. 
To  attempt  to  do  either  would  be  simply  impudent." 

Mrs.  Muller  looked  at  August.  She  did  not  answer 
him,  she  did  not  smile,  she  did  not  grow  angry.  This, 
you  see,  was  one  of  her  supercilious  silences  that 
he  could  only  meet  by  continuing  to  rave.  But  even  an 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  187 

August  finds  it  difficult  to  go  on  raving  when  his 
audience  is  as  irresponsive  as  a  wise,  elderly  dog  to  a 
spitting  cat. 

"You  must  bring  Mina  to  see  me,"  Mrs.  Miiller  said 
after  a  time,  and  then  she  got  up,  dismissing  him, 
Professor  August  Zorn,  a  man,  a  scholar.  Damned 
old  Englishwoman! 

"But  I  told  her  she  was  a  German,"  he  said  to  his 
wife.  "I  rubbed  it  in.  That  annoyed  her!" 

August's  visit  was  only  one  link  in  a  long  chain  of 
evidence  showing  Mrs.  Miiller  that  her  daughter  had 
not  been  kindly  treated  by  Lothar's  family  and  that 
Lothar  himself  had  not  behaved  well  to  his  wife.  Lit- 
tle things  and  big  things  told  her  the  same  story. 

"I  cannot  understand  why  Brenda  chose  these 
hideous  papers  and  carpets,"  she  said  one  rainy  day 
when  the  brown  snakes  in  the  dining-room  looked 
dingier  and  gloomier  than  usual. 

"Brenda  did  not  choose  them,"  said  Lothar.  "When 
we  arrived  we  found  our  home  ready  for  us  to  the 
last  nail.  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Brenda  did  not 
tell  you  this  in  her  letters?" 

"I  remember  her  saying  that  she  found  the  flat  in 
order  and  the  dinner  on  the  table.  She  did  not  tell 
us  what  it  was  like.  She  always  wrote  cheerfully." 

"How  else  should  she  have  written?  She  was  saved 
all  trouble  and  fatigue  by  the  devotion  of  my  mother 
and  sisters.  But  at  the  time  she  was  not  pleased.  She 
even  wished  to  do  some  things  over  again  in  a  different 
way." 

"She  would  have  different  ideas,  you  see,"  said  Mrs. 
Miiller.  "In  England  .  .  ." 

"What  you  do  in  England  cannot  set  the  fashion  in 
Berlin.  My  mother  and  sisters  have  experience  and 
know  how  to  combine  the  most  refined  taste  with 
economy.  Besides,  the  color  of  a  wall  is  indifferent 
to  me." 

"You  are  not  much  at  home,  perhaps?" 


188  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"That  is  what  I  say.  I  am  so  little  at  home  that  I 
do  not  care  whether  my  walls  are  brown,  blue  or 
scarlet.  I  leave  such  matters  to  women." 

"Your  drawing-room  looks  as  if  it  was  never  used," 
said  Mrs.  Miiller. 

"It  is  only  used  when  we  entertain." 

"Doesn't  Brenda  make  a  living-room  of  it?" 

"Certainly  not.  Why  should  we  light  two  stoves 
when  one  will  do?" 

Mrs.  Miiller  asked  no  more  questions  just  then. 
She  had  taken  the  housekeeping  into  her  own  hands 
and  had  engaged  two  capable  servants  in  place  of  the 
pearl  she  had  found  howling  in  a  dirty  kitchen  because 
a  mistress  at  the  point  of  death  upset  her  nerves.  Mrs. 
Miiller  had  seen  directly  she  arrived  that  she  would  be 
needed  for  some  time  if  Brenda  lived,  and  she  had 
settled  down  for  a  prolonged  stay  with  a  son-in-law 
who  began  by  looking  frosty  and  morose,  but  soon 
melted  a  little  because  when  he  ate  at  home  she  made 
him  colossally  comfortable. 

"If  only  Brenda  knew  how  to  cater  for  a  man  as 
you  do,"  he  said  one  day  after  a  meal  of  satisfying 
excellence. 

Mrs.  Miiller  did  not  tell  Lothar  at  the  time  that  she 
was  paying  for  most  things  herself,  and  that  the  house- 
keeping allowance  he  put  down  every  week  was  insuffi- 
cient. She  did  not  understand  yet  why  Brenda  had 
not  run  the  house  on  more  liberal  lines,  and  contributed 
what  was  necessary  out  of  her  own  pocket.  Whenever 
she  saw  the  Erdmanns  and  the  Zorns  she  heard  sour- 
sweet  allusions  to  Brenda's  inefficiency,  and  in  the 
house  she  came  across  various  signs  of  stint  and  make- 
shift that  should  have  been  unnecessary.  However, 
she  could  ask  Brenda  no  questions  yet. 

Lothar  had  not  been  there  when  his  wife  had  been 
carried  home  by  strangers  after  her  headlong  fall  down 
the  steep  flight  of  slippery  steps.  His  thoughts  and 
his  attention  had  all  been  given  to  Frau  Prassler,  they 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  189 

had  met  Major  Prassler  directly  they  moved  away 
and  all  three  had  gone  straight  to  the  restaurant  where 
they  had  arranged  to  sup.  Major  Prassler  had  made 
a  short  perfunctory  search  for  Brenda,  but  he  was  not 
a  man  to  hang  about  in  a  winter  storm,  looking  for  a 
silly  woman  who  could  not  stay  with  her  own  party. 

"I  know  exactly  what  she  has  done,"  Lothar  said. 
"She  has  called  a  taxi  and  gone  home  by  herself.  She 
has  those  independent  ideas  sometimes." 

"Very  inconsiderate,"  said  Jutta.  "She  might  have 
reflected  that  we  should  be  anxious  about  her." 

"It  is  not  only  inconsiderate,  but  it  is  impolite," 
said  Major  Prassler.  "I,  as  her  host,  feel  that  side 
of  it." 

Lothar  stifled  any  sense  of  uneasiness  that  might 
have  interfered  with  his  supper  by  nursing  his  marital 
anger.  When  he  got  home  he  would  certainly  rebuke 
Brenda  for  her  want  of  manners  and  of  deference  to 
his  wishes.  Even  if  she  had  not  felt  very  well  she 
should  have  consulted  him  before  flying  off  home  by 
herself. 

But  when  he  got  home  he  found  a  wife  in  labor,  a 
doctor  as  grave  as  a  judge,  the  pearl  in  hysterics,  a 
fool  of  a  nurse  and  Little  Mamma  insisting  that 
Brenda's  mother  must  be  summoned  at  once.  If  Elsa 
or  Mina  had  ever  been  in  the  same  condition,  which 
was  unthinkable,  she  would  have  called  down  fire  from 
heaven  on  the  heads  of  those  who  kept  her  from  her 
child.  Little  Mamma  said  other  things  that  annoyed 
Lothar  exceedingly.  She  blamed  him  both  for  taking 
Brenda  to  the  theater  and  for  allowing  her  to  fall. 

"The  first  reproach  I  accept.  The  second  is  ridic- 
ulous," said  Lothar.  "How  could  I  have  prevented 
her  from  falling?" 

"By  attending  to  her  instead  of  to  another  woman," 
said  Little  Mamma. 

So  Mrs.  Miiller  came  to  a  family  divided  against 
itself,  and  so  far  as  Brenda  was  concerned  untender. 


190  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

She  could  not  see  that  any  one  except  Siegmund  Abel 
had  much  affection  for  her  daughter,  Lothar  perhaps 
least  of  all.  He  clattered  in  and  out  of  the  house, 
gave  his  orders  in  his  usual  harsh  nasal  voice,  asked 
perfunctorily  after  his  wife,  lost  his  temper  when  the 
least  thing  disturbed  his  comfort,  and  kept  late  hours. 
Mrs.  Miiller  liked  some  of  Brenda's  friends  much  bet- 
ter than  her  relations,  but  she  could  not  discover  that 
any  of  those  she  saw  were  intimate  in  the  house. 
One  afternoon,  when  Elsa  Abel  was  present,  the  beau- 
tiful Jutta  appeared,  bringing  with  her  the  reek  of 
scent  and  the  suggestion  of  a  world  in  which  there  was 
neither  trouble  nor  pain.  She  was  dressed  in  the 
height  of  the  fashion,  and  her  feline  eyes  appraised 
what  Mrs.  Miiller  and  Elsa  wore  as  she  sat  down  to 
talk  to  them.  She  brought  with  her  half  a  dozen  wired 
roses  tied  with  ribbon. 

"How  is  our  dear  patient?"  she  asked,  and  Mrs. 
Miiller  thought  she  had  never  heard  a  voice  so  hard 
and  metallic. 

"I  suppose  Lothar  tells  you  how  she  is  every  day, 
or  doesn't  he  trouble  to  speak  of  his  wife?"  said  Elsa, 
to  Mrs.  Miiller's  amazement. 

"I  am  sure  that  your  brother  is  devoted  to  his  little 
wife,"  said  Jutta,  "quite  devoted.  Naturally  it  has 
been  a  sad  disappointment  to  him  .  .  ." 

She  sighed  and  delicately  paused.  Elsa  gave  a  sort 
of  snort  and  asked  how  late  the  dancing  had  been  kept 
up  at  Toni  Lieber's  Polterabend  and  whether  it  was 
true  that  some  Americans  had  given  an  exhibition  of 
the  scandalous  dances  that  were  the  rage  in  London 
just  now  and  were  going  to  do  them  again  at  Jutta's 
house  to-night.  Jutta  replied  that  if  they  were  scan- 
dalous her  dear  Elsa  could  rest  assured  that  they 
would  not  be  permitted  at  her  house,  and  this  caused 
Elsa  to  snort  again.  Then  Jutta  got  up  to  go. 

"I  merely  called  to  inquire  and  to  bring  a  few 
flowers,"  she  said,  leaving  her  roses  on  the  table. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  191 

"Siegmund  sends  Brenda  flowers  every  day,"  said 
Elsa.  "He  adores  her  and  doesn't  care  what  he  spends 
on  her,  and  he  is  acquainted  with  her  tastes,  which  are 
highly  fastidious.  Wired  flowers  cause  her  to  shudder, 
and  in  her  present  state  might  bring  on  a  relapse." 

"It  is  most  kind  of  you  to  bring  them  and  I  will 
give  them  to  Brenda  at  once,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller  hur- 
riedly, for  she  was  not  behind  the  scenes  and  was 
not  used  to  onslaughts  of  this  primitive  and  determined 
description. 

"When  you  see  an  adder,  stamp  on  it,"  counseled 
Elsa  directly  the  door  had  closed.  "She  won't  come 
again  in  a  hurry." 

"But  why  should  you  think  she  sees  Lothar  every 
day?  Surely  his  work  does  not  bring  them  together?" 

"Not  his  work,  but  his  pleasure,"  said  Elsa  gloomily. 
"She  is  a  notorious  coquette  and  Lothar  is  a  fool." 

Mrs.  Miiller  grew  more  and  more  uneasy  about  her 
child's  marriage,  but  she  said  nothing  to  Brenda  for 
some  time.  She  had  been  in  Berlin  five  or  six  weeks, 
and  May  had  come  before  she  tried  to  find  out  what 
Elsa  had  meant.  Brenda  hardly  ever  spoke  of  her 
present  life  at  all.  Her  thoughts  seemed  to  turn  to 
her  old  home  and  to  the  people  she  had  known  there; 
and  she  took  more  interest  in  anything  that  Mrs.  Miil- 
ler could  tell  her  about  Treva  than  in  the  chronicles 
brought  by  Lothar's  family  of  what  had  happened 
to  acquaintances  in  Berlin. 

"Have  you  made  many  friends  here?"  her  mother 
asked  one  day. 

"A  few.  I  love  Siegmund  Abel  and  I  get  on  with 
Elsa  now.  There  are  others,  too.  When  I  am  stronger 
I  will  ask  some  of  them  to  meet  you." 

"A  Frau  Prassler  called  when  you  were  ill.  I  did 
not  tell  you  at  the  time." 

"She  is  not  a  friend,"  said  Brenda.  Her  face 
seemed  to  stiffen,  and  after  a  moment's  hesitation  she 
added: 


192  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"Lothar  is  in  love  with  her." 

Mrs.  Miiller  had  wished  for  her  daughter's  confi- 
dence, but  now  that  it  was  given  she  felt  immeasurably 
distressed. 

"Elsa  says  she  is  a  notorious  coquette,"  she  answered 
with  embarrassment. 

"Elsa  has  told  you  then.  The  whole  family  know 
about  it  and  disapprove." 

"She  did  not  tell  me  much." 

"I  can't,  either.  It  would  be  a  record  of  small 
slights  and  annoyances  that  mount  up  till  they  make 
one  unhappy.  But  I  don't  see  what  one  can  do." 

"Have  you  spoken  to  Lothar  about  it?" 

"He  knows  that  I  have  eyes." 

"He  might  be  made  to  feel  that  he  is  doing  wrong." 

"He  will  not  stop  for  that.  His  own  people  re- 
proach him,  but  they  do  no  good.  Words  won't  kill 
an  infatuation." 

"I  suppose  it  is  a  mere  flirtation,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller 
after  a  reflective  pause. 

"I've  no  idea.    It  is  an  obsession  at  any  rate." 

"These  affairs  die  out,"  said  Mrs.  Muller.  "If  the 
woman  is  a  coquette  she  will  pass  on  to  some  one  else." 

"What  did  you  think  of  her?" 

"I  thought  she  was  odious.  Artificial  and  conceited. 
But  one  knows  that  some  men  are  attracted  by  that 
kind  of  woman.  What  is  her  husband  like?" 

"Stolid  and  coarse  and  big.  He  married  her  for 
her  money." 

"When  you  are  strong  enough  you  ought  to  have  a 
change,"  said  Mrs.  Muller.  "Perhaps  if  you  and 
Lothar  went  away  together  for  a  time  .  .  .  Could  he 
get  leave?" 

"I  would  much  rather  come  home  with  you,"  said 
Brenda. 

Mrs.  Muller  looked  startled  and  showed  it. 

"You  mean  for  a  short  time,"  she  said.  "You  would 
come  back." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  193 

"I  must  speak  to  Lothar,"  said  Brenda,  and  when 
he  came  in  shortly  before  supper  she  took  her  oppor- 
tunity. 

It  was  now  the  middle  of  May,  nearly  two  months 
since  Brenda  had  been  taken  ill.  She  still  looked 
frail,  but  her  beauty  had  come  back,  and  when  Lothar 
entered  the  room  he  saw  his  wife  as  he  had  seen  her  in 
the  early  days  of  their  marriage;  and  his  eyes  rested 
on  her  as  they  used  to  do,  with  a  proprietary  satisfac- 
tion that  she  noted  and,  thinking  of  Jutta,  would  have 
been  glad  to  avoid. 

"How  much  longer  is  your  mother  staying?"  he 
said  abruptly. 

"She  goes  next  week,"  said  Brenda. 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  have  our  house  to  ourselves 
again." 

Brenda  put  down  her  book  and  met  her  husband's 
eyes ;  but  she  could  not  know  how  far  the  picture  she 
made  affected  Lothar's  mood  and  gave  the  argument 
a  turn  she  had  not  foreseen  and  did  not  desire.  The 
weather  had  turned  warm  and  she  wore  a  thin  white 
embroidered  gown  that  was  as  fresh  as  a  daisy.  Mrs. 
Miiller  had  brought  in  some  lilies  of  the  valley  and 
put  them  in  a  Venetian  glass  by  her  daughter's  side. 
The  setting  sun  shone  on  Brenda's  hair,  burnishing 
the  golden-red  threads  in  it  and  flooding  the  wall 
behind  her  with  light.  Her  convalescence  had  rested 
her  and  she  looked  younger  than  her  years. 

"I  should  like  to  go  back  with  my  mother,"  she 
said. 

"To  London!  Now!  What  for?  I  cannot  go 
with  you  at  present." 

"It  would  be  a  change." 

"It  will  be  a  change  to  be  by  ourselves  again,  with 
you  restored  to  health.  I  want  no  other," 

"It  is  I  who  want  it,"  said  Brenda. 

"A  wife's  place  is  with  her  husband.  You  will  stay 
here,"  said  Lothar. 


194  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"You  never  try  to  take  my  point  of  view,  Lothar.  I 
want  to  get  away  for  a  time." 

"Away  from  what?" 

"Everything !     Everybody !" 

"That  is  an  extraordinary  sentiment  for  a  married 
woman  to  express." 

"It  follows  from  what  has  happened." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I've  been  very  unhappy." 

"You've  been  ill.  There  is  no  reason  why  you 
should  be  unhappy.  You  expect  too  much.  A  sen- 
sible woman  shuts  her  eyes  sometimes." 

"Certainly;  and  when  her  husband  returns  to  her 
because  she  looks  prettier  than  ever  she  opens  them 
again." 

It  was  as  the  morality  of  the  coarser  kind  of  farce 
at  which  you  laugh  as  long  as  the  circumstances  amidst 
which  you  hear  it  put  forth  are  sufficiently  unreal. 
But  Brenda  shuddered  a  little  and  felt  ominously 
irresponsive. 

"I  must  think  things  over,"  she  said. 

Lothar  stared  at  his  wife.  She  had  never  com- 
plained, never  quarreled  with  him,  never  shown  except 
by  her  silence  that  she  resented  his  behavior.  What 
then  did  she  mean  by  this  sudden  assertion  of  herself  ? 
As  if  after  he  had  pointed  out  what  she  was  to  do 
there  could  be  any  question  of  her  doing  something 
different!  Had  her  illness  affected  her  wits?  Who 
could  understand  feminine  vagaries  or  deal  with  them  ? 
He  only  knew  of  one  way,  and  took  it  instantly. 

"There  is  nothing  to  think  over,"  he  roared. 
"Nothing  at  all.  You  will  not  go  to  London.  You  will 
stay  here  and  look  after  your  husband  and  your  house. 
What  do  you  suppose  would  become  of  me  if  you  ran 
about  the  world  as  you  pleased?  That  is  not  our  idea 
of  married  life." 

"You  promised  me  when  we  married  that  I  should 
spend  some  weeks  every  year  with  my  parents." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  195 

"I  don't  remember  It." 

"I  do,  distinctly." 

"What  one  says  before  marriage  is  not  what  one 
says  after.  In  the  ardor  of  courtship  man  will  make 
promises  it  would  be  inconvenient  to  keep  later  on." 

"Then  you  don't  consider  yourself  bound  by  your 
word?" 

"Not  to  a  woman.  All  men  lie  to  women.  Besides, 
what  proof  have  you  that  I  ever  promised  you  an 
annual  visit  to  England?  It  sounds  unlikely." 

"All  men  do  not  lie  to  women,"  said  Brenda. 

"There  are  lies  and  lies.  Some  are  harmless  and 
necessary.  When  I  asked  you  to  marry  me,  I  would 
have  promised  you  the  moon  if  you  had  shown  the 
least  desire  for  it." 

"My  mother  thinks  I  ought  to  have  a  change,"  said 
Brenda,  looking  away  from  Lothar  because  his  eyes 
seemed  ready  to  promise  her  the  moon  at  this  moment, 
provided  she  gave  up  her  wish  to  go  to  London. 

"This  is  out  of  the  question.  I  could  not  get 
leave  at  present.  We  shall  stay  here  together.  You 
do  not  need  a  change.  I  have  not  seen  you  look  as 
well  and  as  pretty  as  you  do  to-day  since  we  met  in 
Heidelberg  a  year  ago." 


XVII 

THEY  were  the  only  English  people  in  the  hotel, 
and  though  they  had  been  in  St.  Peter  for  a 
fortnight  they  still  made  a  little  party  to  them- 
selves. The  husband  and  wife  were  called  Miiller 
and  the  young  woman  with  them  was  called  Erdmann. 
Yet  they  were  English.  Every  one  in  the  hotel  could 
see  it  by  their  manners  and  clothes,  and  could  hear  it 
in  their  voices  and  imperfect  German.  The  unmarried 
man  with  them  was  called  Lovel,  and  both  he  and 
the  man  called  Miiller  had  the  insufferable  English 
air  that  makes  supermen  gobble  with  anger  and  dis- 
like— the  air  of  caring  for  nobody  and  not  minding 
much  if  nobody  cares  for  them.  They  encompassed 
their  womenfolk  with  little  observances  that  super- 
men consider  beneath  male  dignity,  and  the  women 
were  on  terms  of  happy  equality  with  them,  accepting 
their  services  and  sharing  in  their  discussions.  They 
had  a  table  to  themselves  in  the  Speise-Saal,  but  it 
was  a  table  that  could  be  watched  by  the  rest  of  the 
room,  and  at  first  the  relationships  of  the  four  new 
guests  afforded  matter  of  speculation.  Except  at  meals 
they  were  hardly  seen.  Whenever  it  was  fine  they 
went  off  for  the  whole  day  together,  thus  missing 
the  one  o'clock  meal,  which  was  the  biggest  and  most 
satisfying.  Their  indifference  to  it  would  have  pro- 
claimed their  nationality  if  nothing  else  had  done  so. 
They  took  sandwiches  with  them,  the  landlord  in- 
formed inquirers.  Sandwiches!  To  feed  a  man  who 
since  his  supper  the  night  before  had  had  nothing  but 
coffee  and  rolls ! 

196 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  197 

"But  how  is  it  that  you  are  called  Miiller?"  said 
a  determined  woman  to  Jem  when  she  caught  him 
unprotected  one  day. 

"I  am  called  Miiller  because  my  father  is  Miiller," 
said  Jem. 

"But  Miiller  is  a  German  name." 

"My  father  is  German." 

"But  you  are  not!" 

"I'm  English  ...  or  Chinese.  I  was  born  in 
Hongkong." 

"Strange!    And  your  sister?" 

"She  is  English,  too." 

"But  she  is  called  Erdmann." 

"Because  she  married  a  man  of  that  name." 

"He  is  not  here." 

"He  is  in  Berlin  with  his  regiment." 

"An  officer?" 

"Yes." 

"You  said  a  man!      I  thought  perhaps  .  .  ." 

"I  will  tell  you  our  whole  story  since  it  interests 
you,"  said  Jem.  "I  am  English,  my  wife  is  English, 
my  sister  is  English,  and  my  friend,  Mr.  Lovel,  is  Eng- 
lish. There  isn't  a  German  amongst  us.  We  have 
come  here  to  see  the  Black  Forest  and  we  are  enjoying 
ourselves  immensely.  The  only  drawback  to  our 
happiness  is  that  something  has  gone  wrong  with  the 
post.  We  have  had  no  English  letters  and  papers 
to-day." 

"It  must  be  the  fault  of  the  English  post,"  said  the 
woman.  "Ours  is  so  perfectly  organized  that  there 
is  never  a  hitch." 

Just  then  Jem  caught  sight  of  his  party  and  wa1- 
able  to  escape  with  a  polite  remark  about  the  weather. 
But  he  told  Violet  that  in  future  she  must  protect 
him  more  carefully  from  females  who  wore  Reform- 
kleider  and  weighed  more  than  he  did. 

"She  is  angry  because  we  are  not  Germans,"  he 
said  to  Brenda. 


198  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"And  the  angrier  they  are  the  less  we  want  to  be," 
said  Brenda. 

She  had  been  in  St.  Peter  a  fortnight,  the  guest  of 
her  brother,  and  she  had  been  as  happy  as  Peter  Ibbet- 
son  was  when  in  his  prison  cell  he  slept  and  dreamed. 
Presently  the  dream  would  end  and  she  would  wake 
again  to  the  tormented  life,  the  sordid  squabbling 
life  that  her  marriage  made  a  wretched  reality.  Jem 
had  sent  her  a  sudden  invitation,  and  Lothar  had 
permitted  her  to  accept  it.  The  idea  that  sometime 
during  the  summer  a  woman  who  has  been  ill  must  do 
a  "cure"  at  a  watering-place  is  so  inbred  in  German 
life  that  even  tyrannical  husbands  like  Lothar  accept 
it;  and  here  was  an  opportunity  for  a  cure  without 
its  attendant  expenses. 

So  Brenda  set  off  by  herself  in  a  state  of  exhilara- 
tion she  tried  in  vain  to  control  and  call  absurd.  To 
be  with  Jem  and  Violet  all  day  for  three  long  summer 
weeks !  to  see  Andrew  Lovel  again !  to  hear  English 
again!  not  to  be  bullied !  not  to  be  disliked !  not  to 
hear  the  everlasting  bray  of  the  German  trumpet !  Be- 
sides, the  Black  Forest  was  South  Germany,  as  differ- 
ent from  Berlin  as  Treva  from  Manchester.  Not  that 
Manchester  resembled  Berlin.  As  far  as  she  knew, 
both  cities  would  have  resented  comparison.  She 
would  have  liked  to  go  to  Heidelberg,  but  dear  grand- 
mamma and  great-grandmamma  had  died  this  spring 
within  a  few  weeks  of  each  other.  The  old-fashioned 
house  and  the  Garden  of  the  Hesperides  were  in 
strange  hands.  Brenda's  father  had  sent  her  a  neck- 
lace of  seed  pearls  and  some  china  as  mementoes  of 
them.  He  had  supported  them  for  many  years  and 
they  left  no  property  except  their  furniture  and  per- 
sonal possessions. 

"Very  disappointing,"  said  Lothar  when  he  heard 
this.  "I  thought  they  were  people  of  substance  and 
that  you  would  inherit  from  them." 

Brenda  expected  to  find  her  friends  full  of  the  Irish 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  199 

trouble.  In  Berlin  every  one  told  her  that  England 
was  on  the  eve  of  civil  war,  that  the  army  had  mutinied 
and  that  the  labor  world  was  ripe  for  a  bloody  revolu- 
tion. The  whole  Empire  was  rotten,  said  August. 
When  she  saw  an  English  paper  she  felt  anxious  about 
the  unrest  at  home  herself.  But  when  she  got  to  St. 
Peter  she  saw  no  papers  except  the  weekly  edition  of 
"The  Times"  and  she  did  not  read  that  assiduously. 
Jem  and  Andrew  did  not  talk  politics  at  all.  They 
talked  maps  and  expeditions  in  the  evening,  and  by 
day  they  were  on  the  road  or  in  the  forest.  Andrew 
had  come  home  because  Major  Lovel  needed  him  at 
Treva  and  had  taken  a  chance  of  selling  his  New 
Zealand  property  at  a  huge  profit.  The  nephew  had 
managed  the  transaction  and  the  uncle  was  well 
pleased  with  him.  Violet  told  Brenda  this,  but  added 
that  Andrew  wanted  to  go  back  to  New  Zealand.  At 
the  Rectory  everything  went  on  as  usual  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Lovel  were  both  well.  In  Avenue  Road  every- 
thing was  as  usual,  too,  and  in  August  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Miiller  were  going  to  Cromer.  They  had  Jem's  chil- 
dren with  them  at  present  and  had  invited  the  whole 
family  to  Cromer  later  on.  Affairs  in  Ireland  cer- 
tainly looked  serious.  Trouble  seemed  to  be  brewing 
in  Serbia,  too,  and  Paris  was  in  a  ferment  about  the 
Caillaux  trial.  It  was  a  relief  to  get  away  from  papers 
for  a  while  and  Jem  said  he  would  not  mind  if  he  did 
not  see  one  during  his  holiday. 

Brenda  guessed  before  long  that  Jem  and  Violet 
had  come  to  Germany  on  purpose  to  see  her  and  that 
they  had  no  illusions  about  her  marriage.  She  guessed 
it  partly  from  their  silences.  They  never  spoke  of 
Lothar.  But  Andrew  Lovel,  who  knew  less  than  they 
did,  was  less  discreet. 

"How  do  you  like  living  in  Berlin?"  he  asked  her 
one  day  when  they  sat  down  in  the  forest  to  wait  for 
the  others. 

"I  don't  like  it,"   said  Brenda.     "I'm  homesick/' 


200  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"Don't  you  go  home  now  and  again?" 

"I've  not  been  once  yet." 

"Are  the  people  pleasant?" 

"Some  are.     Some  are  odious." 

"Can't  you  avoid  them?" 

"Not  always." 

Brenda  looked  at  Andrew  Lovel  with  the  same 
thought  in  her  mind  that  had  given  her  pause  before. 
How  could  she  explain  August  to  him  or  the  beautiful 
Jutta  or  Little  Mamma?  They  were  types  outside 
his  ken. 

"I'd  like  to  come  home,"  she  said.  "I  want  to  see 
my  father  and  mother.  I'd  love  to  see  Treva  again." 

"I  wish  you'd  come,"  said  Andrew. 

"This  is  my  holiday.     I  can't  expect  another." 

She  was  wrestling  with  herself  as  she  spoke.  She 
had  been  wrestling  with  herself  ever  since  she  saw 
Andrew  Lovel  again,  and  yet  she  had  not  driven  out 
that  which  her  conscience  condemned,  but  seemed 
unable  to  destroy.  She  had  loved  Andrew  when  he 
was  immature  and  young  for  his  years,  and  now  that 
he  had  found  himself  she  loved  him  more  than  ever, 
though  she  was  a  married  woman.  Consider  what 
that  means  to  a  woman  of  Brenda's  character  and  up- 
bringing. The  joy  was  stolen  and  the  distress  was 
greater  than  the  joy.  To  be  with  him  made  her  ex- 
quisitely happy,  and  that  in  itself  frightened  her. 
Every  morning  she  resolved  on  a  day  of  serene  light- 
hearted  contentment  and  every  night  she  knew  that 
she  had  not  been  serene  but  in  extremes  of  bliss  and 
trouble.  She  had  no  doubts  about  the  situation  and 
she  was  sure  that  Andrew  had  none.  When  love  and 
duty  come  to  the  grapple,  love  must  give  way.  You 
do  not  reason  about  it.  You  know  it  is  so  even  if  it 
kills  you.  Brenda  had  seen  and  read  the  modern 
drama  in  four  tongues,  but  she  supposed  she  was 
compounded  of  different  stuff  from  those  interesting 
heroes  and  heroines  who  are  overcome  by  amorous 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  207 

passion  as  a  child  is  overcome  by  a  fit  of  naughtiness. 
She  did  not  even  hold  that  Lothar's  unfaithfulness 
could  condone  hers.  His  infatuation  for  the  beautiful 
Jutta  was  a  humiliation  of  her  wifehood;  it  pulled 
down  the  poor  scaffolding  around  their  marriage  and 
left  it  a  ruin  for  every  one  to  see.  But  it  did  nothing 
to  exonerate  her  when  she  looked  at  Andrew  and 
wished  they  could  go  to  New  Zealand  together  or  die 
and  find  themselves  together  on  a  star.  Her  holiday 
had  become  a  time  of  mingled  happiness  and  torture ; 
and  in  the  same  hour  she  would  think  of  its  end  with 
relief  and  despair. 

Andrew  had  been  told  enough  of  Brenda's  marriage 
to  know  that  it  was  not  a  happy  one,  and  if  he  had 
been  told  nothing  he  would  have  guessed  it.  Her  eyes 
showed  that  she  had  suffered,  and  her  manner  had 
changed,  too.  To  go  from  friendly  surroundings  to 
bitterly  hostile  ones  leaves  its  mark  at  all  times,  and 
Brenda  had  gone  alone,  a  stranger  within  gates  that 
had  no  welcome,  an  alien  among  people  blown  with 
wrath  and  pride.  Even  when  she  thought  of  those 
who  had  been  friendly  to  her  in  Berlin  it  did  not  affect 
her  belief  in  the  universal  grudge  against  England, 
inculcated  for  years  and  ready  to  burst  into  fury  at 
the  word  of  command.  She  thought  that  Violet,  Jem 
and  Andrew  were  typical  of  English  blindness  and 
indifference.  They  were  enjoying  their  holiday,  they 
delighted  in  the  forest,  they  praised  the  food,  they 
would  tramp  to  a  village  church  feast  in  order  to  see 
the  peasants  in  costume.  They  paid  lavishly  for 
everything,  found  those  who  served  them  civil  and 
assiduous  and  never  dreamed  what  a  volcano  of  hate 
was  smothering  its  fires  under  this  thin  crust  of  peace 
and  good  will. 

On  the  first  of  August  Brenda  went  into  the  Speise- 
Saal  and  took  her  place  at  the  table  her  party  always 
occupied.  It  was  pleasantly  placed  close  to  a  window 
which  they  usually  kept  open  in  spite  of  some  looks 


202  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

and  innuendoes  from  an  apoplectic-looking  Herr 
Worms,  who  sat  beyond  them  with  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren. The  night  before  this  person  had  behaved  with 
conspicuous  rudeness,  and  Brenda,  who  was  used  to 
August,  did  not  marvel  so  much  at  his  want  of  man- 
ners as  at  the  wave  of  sympathy  with  him  that  rippled 
through  the  room  among  people  who  ought  to  have 
known  better.  His  behavior  then  had  been  outrage- 
ous and  only  possible  in  a  country  that  has  no  measure 
of  conduct  except  its  own  conceit.  The  day  had  been 
wet  and  cold  in  this  high  region,  so  Andrew,  noticing 
that  Brenda  felt  chilly,  shut  the  window  nearest  to 
her.  To  -his  amazement  the  apoplectic  Herr  Worms 
pushed  back  his  chair,  got  up,  approached  him  and 
let  forth  a  torrent  of  abuse  of  which  he  did  not  un- 
derstand a  single  word.  But  he  understood  the  fel- 
low's bawling  voice,  his  clenched,  threatening  fists, 
and  his  face  scarlet  with  rage. 

"What's  the  matter?"  he  said  to  Jem. 

"He  says  you've  insulted  him  by  shutting  the  win- 
dow to-night,  although  you  left  it  open  this  morning 
after  he  had  sneezed  twice  with  cold." 

"Silly  ass!"  said  Andrew.  "If  he  wanted  it  shut, 
why  couldn't  he  say  so?" 

That  closed  the  incident  as  far  as  Brenda  and  her 
party  were  concerned.  Herr  Worms  returned  to  his 
place,  grumbling  and  muttering,  and  the  English  people 
ate  their  supper  without  further  molestation.  Next 
day  they  decided  that  the  sun  might  be  shining  in  the 
valley,  and,  taking  their  lunch  with  them,  they  struck 
down  hill,  lost  their  way,  enjoyed  themselves  im- 
mensely and  were  out  seven  hours.  When  they  got 
back  there  were  no  letters  or  papers  from  England  yet ; 
but  Brenda  heard  from  Lothar.  He  told  her  to  return 
to  Berlin  instantly,  but  sent  no  money  and  gave  no 
reason.  She  went  down  to  supper  without  giving  a 
thought  to  the  politics  of  the  world,  depressed  by  her 
own  future  and  occupied  with  her  own  troubles.  She 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  203 

sat  down  and  looked  through  the  open  window  at  the 
landscape.  The  room  was  filling  rapidly,  but  she  did 
not  turn  her  head  till  she  heard  some  one  at  her  own 
table,  and  then  she  was  surprised  to  see  Herr  Worms 
and  his  family  invading  it.  The  next  one,  usually 
occupied  by  them,  was  taken  by  strangers,  but  she 
saw  others  empty  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  room. 

"This  table  is  not  free,"  she  said.  "My  friends  will 
be  here  directly." 

She  spoke  in  German  and  the  man  answered  her  in 
German,  falling  into  invective  without  a  moment's 
hesitation.  The  table  was  as  free  to  him  as  to  any  one 
else,  he  roared.  He  supposed  the  English  flag  was 
not  flying  in  German  hotels  yet,  was  it?  Just  the 
English  way  to  think  that  the  earth  belonged  to  them, 
though  they  did  nothing  but  cumber  it.  They  had  a 
lesson  to  learn  and  Germany  was  going  to  teach  it. 
His  wife  would  sit  on  that  chair  and  his  children  would 
sit  on  those.  He  also  would  take  a  chair  with  the 
English  lady's  leave.  English!  He  spat  upon  the 
English ! 

He  actually  did  spit,  so  overcome  was  he  by  the 
poison  gas  within  him;  while  his  wife,  smugly  pleased 
with  her  man's  patriotism,  took  the  chair  he  had  as- 
signed to  her.  The  children  sat  down,  too,  and  as  the 
table  had  been  laid  for  four  there  was  no  vacant  place 
yet  for  their  father.  Brenda  had  turned  rather  white, 
but  had  not  risen  yet.  She  did  so  when  her  own  people 
appeared  and  came  close  enough  to  hear  what  the 
infuriated  man  was  saying.  He  stood  there,  shaking 
his  fist  now  at  one  of  them  and  now  at  the  other. 
They  were  all  English  and  his  gorge  rose  at  the  sight 
of  them.  That  was  the  gist  of  what  he  was  saying, 
and  one  word  used  over  and  over  again  even  Violet 
could  understand. 

"Pig-dogs!"  she  translated.  "He  is  calling  us  pig- 
dogs!  What  a  funny  little  man!  Why  has  he  taken 
our  table,  Brenda?" 


204  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"I'm  fed  up  with  him,"  said  Jem,  and  turning  to 
Herr  Worms,  he  said  in  his  broken  public-school  Ger- 
man: "Unser  Tisch — our  table.  Verstehen  Sief" 

The  whole  room  was  now  looking  on,  for  Jem's 
remonstrance  seemed  to  put  Herr  Worms  into  a  frenzy 
compared  with  which  his  usual  fits  of  bad  temper 
were  calms.  He  said  everything  over  again  in  a  louder 
voice  and  called  upon  his  countrymen  to  agree  with 
him.  Then  he  began  to  say  other  things. 

"If  he  only  had  a  sword  now  he'd  run  us  through," 
said  Violet.  "Come  away,  Jem.  He's  crazy !" 

"You  have  not  the  least  idea  of  the  things  the  brute 
is  saying,"  Brenda  whispered  to  her  sister-in-law. 
"He's  insulting  all  the  women  of  England  now.  Come 
away  before  our  men  understand." 

For  a  moment  the  little  group  of  English  people 
stood  there,  isolated  and  hesitating.  They  could  not 
recover  their  table  by  force  and  the  waitress  who 
served  it  had  discreetly  disappeared.  They  were 
startled  and  impressed  by  the  demeanor  of  the  other 
people  in  the  room,  for  they  saw  even  more  clearly 
than  Brenda  had  done  last  night  that  the  bully  had 
the  crowd  on  his  side  and  knew  it.  There  were  many 
people  in  the  room  who  would  not  have  behaved  as  he 
did,  but  they  did  not  interfere.  At  least  no  one  did 
until  Jem  said  he  would  fetch  the  proprietor;  and 
then  he  found  at  his  elbow  an  elderly  man  with  whom 
he  had  had  some  conversation  a  few  days  ago:  a 
German  gentleman,  sedate  and  kindly,  who  spoke 
English  well.  He  looked  ominously  grave. 

"Have  you  heard  the  news  ?"  he  asked. 

"I've  not  seen  a  paper  for  a  week,"  said  Jem. 

"Is  Mme.  Caillaux  acquitted?"  asked  Violet. 

"Is  there  news  from  Ireland?"  said  Andrew. 

The  German  looked  from  one  to  the  other  with 
wonder  and  some  compassion,  as  a  grown  man  might 
look  at  children  asking  about  trifles  on  a  day  of 
doom. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  205 

"Mme.  Caillaux  has  been  acquitted,"  he  said. 
"There  has  been  a  riot  in  Ireland." 

He  waited  a  moment,  not  because  what  he  said 
roused  any  response  beyond  a  quick  breath  of  sur- 
prise, but  because  the  emotion  with  which  he  was 
struggling  mastered  him.  The  spectacle  of  it  so 
affected  the  four  people  waiting  for  him  to  speak 
that  they  received  the  news  he  had  given  in  the  way 
he  evidently  felt  it  himself,  as  news  of  no  importance 
compared  with  that  which  was  to  come. 

"Germany  is  in  a  state  of  war,"  he  said  in  a  meas- 
ured voice  as  soon  as  he  could  speak. 

"That  is  why  Lothar  has  sent  for  me,"  cried  Brenda. 

"Has  Germany  declared  war?"  said  Jem. 

"Not  yet.  But  we  have  been  mobilizing  for  days. 
We  are  ready  on  both  frontiers.  You  should  leave  at 
once  .  .  .  before  it  is  too  late." 

"But  we  are  not  at  war  with  any  one,"  said  Violet. 

"Not  to-day.  You  may  be  to-morrow.  We  do  not 
know.  We  hope  not."  Then  he  turned  to  Jem  again. 

"You  have  women  with  you,"  he  said.  "You  should 
go  home  at  once.  Public  feeling  against  England  is 
rising  every  hour." 


xvin 

THE  train  droned  on  through  the  long  hours 
of  the  night,  weaving  the  same  pattern  mile  by 
mile  on  Brenda's  sleepless  brain.  The  night 
before  she  had  not  slept  much,  because  she  had  thought 
herself  unhappy  and  dreaded  the  future.  But  now  that 
night  of  personal  sorrow  and  vain  wishes  was  blotted 
out  by  the  experiences  of  this  one.  Life  had  begun 
anew  in  a  world  without  the  old  checks  and  the  old 
values.  Yesterday  the  compelling  trouble  of  love  had 
moved  Brenda's  heart  and  filled  her  thoughts.  But 
to-night  love  folded  his  wings  and  waited. 

Opposite  Brenda  sat  Andrew  Lovel,  and  he  had  just 
fallen  asleep.  Perhaps  he,  too,  had  not  slept  the  night 
before.  He  looked  white  and  worn.  When  his  eyes 
closed  Brenda's  eyes  rested  on  his  face  with  greater 
freedom  than  when  his  glance  met  her  own:  and  she 
wanted  to  remember  every  line  of  it,  for  who  knew 
whether  she  would  ever  see  him  again  after  the  jour- 
ney ended  ?  He  had  insisted  on  coming  to  Berlin  with 
her  although  she  had  insisted  that  she  could  travel 
alone.  Jem  and  Violet  had  gone  back  to  Strasburg 
and  by  this  time  should  be  safely  over  the  frontier. 
Violet  had  wished  Brenda  to  go  with  them,  but  Jem 
had  upheld  his  sister  when  she  said  that  she  must  see 
her  husband  before  he  went  to  war.  None  of  them 
knew  on  the  Saturday  what  England  would  do,  for 
they  had  seen  no  papers  all  through  that  fateful  week 
and  had  heard  nothing  but  what  the  Germans  at  the 

206 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  207 

hotel  had  told  them.  Austria  had  bombarded  Belgrade 
and  Germany  was  in  a  state  of  war !  What  that  meant 
all  over  the  country  they  did  not  understand  till  they 
reached  Freiburg  on  Saturday  afternoon  and  saw  the 
dislocation  of  traffic  at  the  station,  the  moving  troops, 
the  wildly  excited  civilians  and  the  breakdown  of  the 
usual  routine.  Jem  and  Violet  had  tumbled  into  a 
packed  train,  but  their  big  trunks  did  not  go  with 
them.  No  heavy  baggage  to  Paris  could  pass,  the 
officials  said,  and  refused  to  weigh  it.  People  might 
take  the  train  or  stay  behind  as  they  pleased.  But 
property  belonging  to  French  and  English  pig-dogs 
flying  in  hot  haste  from  Germany!  Let  it  stay  in  the 
Fatherland!  He,  the  big  brawny  official,  talking  to 
an  underling,  took  the  responsibility. 

"They'll  find  chiefly  nailed  boots  in  mine,"  said  Jem. 
"I  wish  I  could  have  a  kick  at  that  beast  with  one  of 
them." 

But  he  did  not  get  his  kick,  and  he  and  Violet  never 
saw  their  trunks  again.  They  said  good-bye  to  Andrew 
and  Brenda  in  a  scene  of  great  confusion,  and  were  too 
much  harried  and  hustled  for  hours  to  come  to  think 
of  anything  but  the  exigencies  of  the  moment  and  the 
intense  excitement  reigning  everywhere.  As  for  An- 
drew and  Brenda,  they  could  not  even  find  seats  at 
first  in  the  train  going  to  Berlin.  They  stood  in  a 
corridor  until  a  good  many  people  got  out  at  a  junc- 
tion, and  then  they  found  room  in  a  first-class  com- 
partment in  which  two  German  officers  and  two  civil- 
ians were  traveling.  By  this  time  they  were  not 
surprised  to  be  received  with  glances  of  declared  hos- 
tility. By  this  time  they  had  been  made  to  understand 
that  they  were  pig-dogs  in  a  world  of  supermen  and 
must  suffer  for  it.  For  what  is  the  use  of  being  a 
superman  if  you  can't  show  the  pig-dog  that  you  hate 
him?  When  the  game  is  safe  it  is  satisfying  to  the 
supersoul  and  when  it  is  unsafe  you  kotow  instead. 

"I  have  lived  in  England  for  years,"  said  the  stout 


208  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

commercial-looking  superman  sitting  next  to  Brenda. 
"I  know  the  English  as  I  know  myself.  They  will 
not  fight.  They  always  desert  their  friends.  Besides, 
they  are  rotten." 

He  looked  at  his  exceedingly  stout  wife,  he  looked 
at  Brenda,  he  looked  at  Andrew  Lovel,  who  did  not 
understand  a  word  of  German,  but  was  uncomfortably 
squeezed  by  the  stout  lady's  bulging  hold-all.  It  was 
an  outsize  hold-all  of  drab  oatmeal  cloth  with  a  motto 
embroidered  on  it  in  bright  blue.  "Go  East,  go  West, 
at  Home's  the  Best,"  the  motto  said,  but  Andrew  could 
not  understand  that,  and  all  he  knew  about  the  hold-all 
was  that  the  umbrellas  in  it  were  butting  into  his  ribs. 
So  without  speaking  he  shifted  it  a  little  and  instantly 
turned  the  superman  and  his  spouse  into  raving  luna- 
tics. They  began  to  storm  just  as  Herr  Worms  in 
the  hotel  had  stormed,  and  they  tried  to  butt  into 
Andrew's  ribs  again  with  their  umbrellas.  The  two 
officers  looked  on  superciliously  and  did  not  inter- 
fere. 

"This  is  my  seat,"  said  Andrew,  "I  have  paid  for 
it  and  I  want  it." 

"You  call  yourself  a  shentleman!"  replied  the 
superwoman. 

"I  shall  call  the  guard  unless  you  remove  your 
umbrellas,"  said  Andrew,  addressing  the  superman. 

Like  a  god  from  a  machine  the  guard  appeared  at 
the  door  just  then,  demanding  tickets;  and  he  not  only 
appeared  like  a  god,  but  he  acted  like  one,  ending  com- 
bat by  decisive  action.  His  compatriots  complained 
loudly  of  the  Englishman's  insolent  and  provocative 
behavior.  They  had  been  sitting  as  still  as  mice,  they 
said,  with  all  their  hand  luggage  close  to  them,  when 
the  Englishman  had  seized  it  and  said  it  was  in  his 
way.  The  guard  knew  how  English  travelers  invari- 
ably behaved  and  how  unpleasant  it  was  for  refined 
people  to  travel  with  them.  Andrew  said  nothing. 
Brenda  waited.  The  guard  pointed  to  the  hold-all 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  209 

still  partly  across  Andrew's  seat,  but  not  as  much 
so  as  when  he  had  first  moved  it. 

"Away  with  that!"  he  commanded  in  a  voice  of 
harsh  command:  and  then  Brenda  spoke. 

"The  gentleman  wants  it  away,"  she  said.  "It  does 
not  belong  to  him." 

Andrew  could  only  follow  the  pantomime  of  his 
companions,  but  he  watched  their  faces  fall,  and  after 
a  vibrating  moment  of  embarrassment  he  heard  the 
guard  shout  something  at  them  he  judged  to  be  un- 
flattering, after  which  he  saw  him  snatch  up  the 
hold-all  and  thrust  it  into  the  rack  above.  Then, 
having  seen  justice  done,  the  man  walked  away,  leaving 
his  country-people  more  furious  than  ever  with  the 
triumphant  pig-dogs,  who,  to  avoid  argument,  shut 
their  eyes  and  tried  to  sleep. 

But  sleep  did  not  come  easily  to  any  one  in  the  train 
that  night,  for  it  stopped  often  and  at  every  station 
there  were  troops  and  a  crowd.  There  was  singing, 
laughter,  shouting,  hoarse  cries  of  command,  hurry, 
scuffle  and  the  wail  of  children  in  a  world  that  could 
not  stop  for  children's  needs.  The  movement  in  the 
train  never  ceased,  the  corridors  were  packed,  officers 
swaggered  through  the  press  of  people  to  the  buffet 
and  back  again.  The  air  grew  fetid  in  spite  of  an 
open  window  here  and  there,  and  Brenda,  weary  and 
half  suffocated,  could  neither  sleep  nor  stay  awake. 
She  fell  into  a  semi-comatose  state  in  which  she  heard 
voices  and  scraps  of  dialogue  and  in  which  passing 
figures  painted  themselves  on  her  fancy  like  figures  in 
a  nightmare,  some  of  no  account,  some  threatening  and 
hateful.  There  was  one  officer  who  looked  in  at  her 
compartment  as  if  he  wanted  to  find  a  seat  there  and 
she,  opening  her  eyes  heavily,  saw  him:  saw  his  tall 
figure,  his  sensual  thick-lipped  face  and  his  arrogant 
pale-blue  eyes.  It  was  a  type  she  knew  as  a  Londoner 
knows  his  city  clerk,  but  she  saw  it  to-night  keyed  to 
its  topmost  note,  exultant  and  aggressive.  The  Day 


210  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

had  arrived  and  he  was  the  hero  of  it — the  hero  and 
the  victor.  No  thought  of  check  came  to  temper  the 
dominant  mood.  "In  five  weeks  we  shall  be  in  Paris," 
she  heard  one  say  as  she  half  dozed  again. 

"And  what  after?"  asked  another  voice,  harsh  and 
jubilant. 

"We  shall  see  on  Tuesday  night.    I  have  my  ideas." 

"You  think  the  English  will  come  in?  How  can 
they?  They  have  no  army,  and  if  they  tried  to  make 
one  they  would  have  a  revolution.  Besides,  who  ever 
heard  of  an  untrained  army  facing  one  like  ours?  It 
would  be  wiped  out  at  once." 

"Then  let  us  hope  they  will  be  fools  enough  to  try. 
Sooner  or  later!  What  does  it  matter?" 

"I  wish  I  knew  German,"  said  Andrew  next  time 
there  was  a  stop,  and  Brenda  opened  her  eyes.  "All 
the  while  those  chaps  were  arguing  I  heard  two  words 
I  knew  and  one  I  didn't  know.  I  can  understand 
when  they  say  Englanders  or  Schweinhund,  but  what 
isfaul?  Is  it  foul?" 

"Rotten  .  .  .  decadent,"  said  Brenda,  speaking  in 
a  low  whisper,  for  she  saw  that  the  people  with  the 
hold-all  had  got  out  and  that  four  gray  uniforms 
were  now  sharing  the  compartment  with  them. 

"They  think  we  are  rotten,  do  they?" 

"They  never  think.     They  know." 

"I'd  like  to  ask  them  why.  I  don't  feel  rotten," 
said  Andrew. 

Brenda  looked  at  him  dissuasively. 

"Wait  till  you  get  to  Berlin,"  she  said.  "I'll  intro- 
duce August  to  you.  He  can't  run  a  sword  through 
you  even  if  you  laugh  at  him :  and  I  know  you 
would." 

That  was  the  last  flicker  of  laughter  possible  in  this 
new  evil  world  thought  Brenda  hours  later  when, 
wide-eyed  and  sleepless,  she  watched  for  the  dawn. 
She  had  laughed  a  little  as  she  spoke  of  August,  and 
Andrew  had  responded  with  the  twinkle  in  his  eyes 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  211 

that  was  so  humorous  and  understanding.  He  looked 
tired  and  anxious  to-night,  he  clattered  no  sword,  he 
was  stiffened  by  no  uniform,  his  speech  was  the  speech 
of  his  kind,  low-toned  and  never  emphatic.  Yet 
Brenda,  judging  him  in  the  light  of  the  present  hour, 
with  brooding  and  high  hope,  judged  that  he  was  not 
rotten.  Body  and  soul  he  was  sound  and  he  stood  for 
his  country,  for  her  country.  But  she  had  sold  her 
birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage  and  the  flavor  of  it 
was  bitter  in  her  mouth. 

A  clash  of  voices,  a  scuffle,  a  woman's  shriek  and 
then  a  shot  so  close  that  every  one  in  the  compartment 
rose  in  alarm.  A  scream  with  the  shot,  a  long  sighing 
groan  and  then  the  thud  of  a  body  falling  to  the 
ground.  Then  Babel  and  throughout  the  train  panic. 
Every  one  talking,  women  in  hysterics,  officials  shout- 
ing hoarse  directions.  Brenda,  who  had  risen,  sat 
down  because  her  strength  seemed  to  turn  to  water. 
She  was  terrified,  for  through  all  the  noise  and  con- 
fusion she  heard  one  word  spit  out  over  and  over 
again  with  every  variation  of  anger  and  malevolence. 
England !  Englander !  Even  Andrew  understood. 

"You  stay  here,"  said  Andrew.  "I'll  find  out  what 
has  happened." 

Brenda  was  glad  to  sit  still.  She  felt  sick  and  cold, 
for  the  first  hubbub  had  subsided  and  she  could  hear 
the  labored  breath  of  a  man  in  agony.  Were  they 
doing  nothing  to  relieve  him?  Was  no  one  there  to 
help?  With  a  sudden  impulse  she  rose  to  her  feet 
and  went  into  the  corridor.  The  officers  from  her 
compartment  crowded  it,  but  they  drew  back  a  little 
from  the  group  they  had  been  watching  when  she 
appeared. 

A  middle-aged  man  lay  huddled  on  the  floor  in  a 
pool  of  blood.  Andrew  and  a  man  who  looked  like  a 
doctor  bent  over  him ;  but  as  Brenda  approached,  the 
doctor,  speaking  to  one  of  the  railway  officials,  said 
there  was  nothing  to  be  done.  The  corridor  as  far  as 


212  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Brenda  could  see  was  packed  with  people,  and  those 
who  could  not  find  room  there  were  looking  out  of 
the  carriages. 

"What  happened?"  said  Brenda. 

"He  has  been  shot,"  said  Andrew.  "He  is  English. 
I  thought  he  might  want  to  send  some  message,  but 
I  was  too  late." 

Brenda  heard  what  he  said,  but  she  also  heard  a 
sound  that  appalled  her,  a  low  running  growl  of 
hate  and  rage  like  the  growl  of  a  wild  beast  about  to 
spring. 

"Who  shot  him?"  she  whispered. 

"One  of  the  officers  in  the  train." 

"But  it  is  murder!"  cried  Brenda,  no  longer  whis- 
pering: and,  lifting  her  eyes,  she  met  the  impudent 
stare  of  the  thick-lipped  officer  she  had  seen  when  she 
was  half  awake  an  hour  ago.  He  took  a  step  forward 
and  his  face  reddened  with  anger  at  Brenda's  cry.  She 
saw  the  revolver  in  his  hand  and  then  her  attention 
was  drawn  to  the  doctor,  who  had  been  examining  the 
dying  Englishman. 

"You  can  do  nothing,"  he  said.  "In  another  moment 
he  will  be  dead.  Go  back  to  your  places  and  be  care- 
ful what  you  say.  People  are  excited." 

Brenda  rose,  signed  to  Andrew  Lovel  to  follow  her, 
and  felt  relieved  when  they  were  in  their  seats  again. 
She  had  not  lived  in  Berlin  for  a  year  without  hearing 
stories  of  quarrels  leading  to  duels  and  she  knew  that 
the  man  with  her  was  in  greater  danger  than  she  was 
herself.  Any  false  step  on  her  part  might  land 
Andrew  in  trouble,  and  she  did  not  want  to  see  him 
lying  in  a  pool  of  blood,  sobbing  out  his  life  unheeded 
and  unavenged. 

"They've  not  even  arrested  the  brute,"  said  Andrew. 
"It  was  that  fat-faced  one  with  the  revolver." 

"I  know,"  said  Brenda  and  began  to  cry. 

"He  was  unconscious  at  once,"  said  Andrew,  speak- 
ing of  the  Englishman.  "He  was  not  in  pain." 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  213 

"He  was  murdered!"  cried  Brenda.  "What  had 
he  done?  and  no  one  cares.  What  has  come  to  the 
world?" 

Before  Andrew  could  speak  the  compartment  filled 
again,  and  one  of  the  people  traveling  in  it  now  was 
the  officer  with  the  revolver.  She  turned  her  face 
from  every  one,  trying  to  hide  her  distress,  and  when 
the  train  stopped,  listened  with  shuddering  attention 
to  the  removal  of  the  murdered  man  and  the  colloquy 
carried  on  by  the  guard,  various  witnesses  and  the 
station-master.  She  heard  the  word  police,  but  no 
police  came;  she  heard  the  man  with  the  revolver 
give  his  name  and  address,  but  when  the  train  moved 
on  he  was  still  sitting  unconcernedly  in  his  place.  No 
one  had  dared  to  detain  him,  and  by  what  he  said  to 
the  other  officers  in  the  carriage  she  understood  that 
he  was  without  shame  and  without  fear. 

"He  would  not  move  to  let  me  pass.  He  stood  in 
the  way,  and  when  I  pushed  him  he  swore  at  me.  Is 
one  to  stand  that  from  one  of  these  English  pigs? 
Must  one  make  oneself  respected  or  not?" 

"We  have  our  orders,"  said  another.  "We  know 
what  All-Highest  thinks  about  it." 

"Nur  feste  drauf,"  said  some  one  else,  quoting  the 
Crown  Prince's  telegram  to  the  commanding  officer  at 
Zaben  whose  lieutenant  had  thrust  his  sword  through 
a  crippled  cobbler. 

"The  Day  has  come  at  last,"  said  the  man  with  the 
revolver. 

"But  it  is  not  certain  yet  that  they  .  .  ." 

"We  are  certain.  Sooner  or  later  we  shall  show 
them." 

"It  will  be  an  awakening." 

"One  can  be  almost  sorry  for  them." 

"Sorry!" 

"They  are  so  fast  asleep  and  they  will  be  so  wide 
awake." 

"When  the  Zeppelins  are  over  London.      That  will 


214  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

be  a  trip  to  make.  I  have  a  cousin  in  command  of 
one.  He  has  told  me  things  .  .  .  like  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah  the  city  will  be  wiped  out  .  .  ." 

"By  our  cleansing  fires." 

"The  air  will  reek  with  burning  flesh  .  .  ." 

"City  by  city  we  shall  accomplish  it.  The  country 
places  we  shall  starve." 

"How  will  you  manage  that?" 

"With  our  submarines.  We  shall  blockade  their 
coasts." 

"But  they  have  ships." 

"They  will  not  have  ships.  What  can  ships  do 
against  our  submarines?  Besides  their  sailors  are 
always  drunk.  You  know  how  it  was  on  the  Titanic 
.  .  .  the  captain,  the  officers,  the  crew,  the  passengers, 
all  drunk  and  going  to  their  doom." 

"And  such  people  think  they  can  stand  up  to 
us." 

"WThen  we  have  done  with  them  there  will  not  be  a 
people." 

"On  their  own  heads  be  it.  They  have  grudged  us 
our  prosperity!" 

"The  Day!" 

Brenda  opened  her  eyes  and  sat  up.  In  this  car- 
riage, almost  brushing  her  skirt,  sat  a  murderer :  and 
other  men  talked  with  him,  condoning  and  approving. 
What  temper  possessed  a  people  who  could  see  such 
deeds  unmoved  and  gloat  over  worse  to  come !  What 
dishonor  would  stain  them?  What  crimes  pollute 
their  progress?  What  cruelties  their  conquest.  For 
they  sat  there  as  conquerors,  never  doubting  their 
forecasts  or  dreaming  of  a  hitch  in  their  plans.  They 
talked  of  Paris  in  September  as  a  tourist  does  who  has 
taken  his  ticket.  They  talked  of  St.  Petersburg  too 
and  of  Constantinople.  By  the  time  morning  came 
they  were  established  at  Bombay,  had  reckoned  with 
the  Japanese  and  were  making  a  new  German  world  of 
North  and  South  America.  Africa  had  been  easily 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  215 

swept  into  the  Hohenzollern  maw  with  the  help  of  the 
Boers.  Meanwhile  Andrew  slept;  the  train  droned 
on;  and  in  the  corridor  just  outside  there  was  still 
the  pool  of  blood. 


XIX 

^EE-FO-FUM!  I  smell  the  blood  of  an  Eng- 
lishman." That  is  what  it  had  come  to  in 
Germany,  thought  Brenda,  as  she  looked  askance 
at  the  man  who  had  committed  the  murder  and  in 
fancy  saw  her  Englishman  spitted  on  his  unsheathed 
sword.  These  things  happened.  She  had  only  to 
walk  into  the  corridor  to  see  the  stains  of  blood ;  and 
so  near  her  that  she  could  watch  his  face  and  hear  his 
voice  sat  the  ogre,  boastful  and  unashamed.  His 
fellows  were  in  sympathy  with  him  and  were  still  talk- 
ing of  his  prowess  in  slaying  one  who  had  impudently 
put  his  hand  on  the  sacred  uniform.  They  had  been 
patient  long  enough.  Everywhere  they  had  met  with 
rebuffs  at  the  hands  of  these  pig-dogs!  Agadir! 
Brenda  pretended  to  sleep  again.  She  had  seen  August 
foam  at  the  mouth  about  Agadir  and  could  have  reeled 
off  all  his  arguments  proving  the  innocence  of  the 
German  hemmed  in  by  unscrupulous  and  designing 
foes.  How  weary  she  was  of  this  fire-eating  world: 
and  now  it  was  on  the  war-path.  She  knew  its  fanatic 
hate,  she  feared  its  prepared  and  secret  strength,  she 
shuddered  at  the  days  to  come.  Meanwhile  she  kept 
her  eyes  shut  because  she  heard  Andrew  stir  as  if  he 
was  awake  again;  and  she  did  not  want  him  to  speak 
to  her  in  English.  She  believed  that  the  mere  sound  of 
their  tongue  might  be  treated  as  a  provocation  by  the 
armed  bullies  in  the  carriage  with  them.  If  she  had 
chosen  to  enter  into  conversation  with  them  and  tell 
them  her  husband  was  a  German  officer  their  manner 
wou!4  have  changed  she  knew,  They  would  have 

216 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  217 

turned  civil,  possibly  gallant,  called  her  gn'ddige  Frau 
and  offered  her  their  services.  But  she  would  not 
have  done  it  except  in  extremity  and  then  she  would 
have  hated  such  a  way  of  escape.  She  was  English. 
She  was  a  pig-dog  and  she  did  not  want  their  help  or 
their  gallantry:  the  help  of  blood-stained  hands. 

"I  want  to  be  in  England,"  she  said,  when  at  last 
the  journey  came  to  an  end  and  she  was  in  a  taxi  with 
Andrew.  "If  we  go  to  war  I  want  to  be  in  my  own 
country  .  .  .  not  here." 

"Germany  will  be  no  place  for  an  Englishwoman 
if  we  go  to  war,"  said  Andrew.  "I've  seen  enough  to 
know  that.  They've  got  their  knife  into  us  sure 
enough.  I  expect  your  husband  will  want  you  to 
leave  as  soon  as  you  can.  He  must  know  the  state 
of  feeling  here." 

Brenda  did  not  feel  sure  of  what  lay  before  her. 
The  life  she  had  left  behind  when  she  started  on  her 
holiday,  a  husband  who  was  uxorious  one  day  and  in- 
different the  next,  who  exercised  his  rights  but  neg- 
lected his  duties,  a  life  of  friction  and  yet  of  loneliness 
closed  in  upon  her  as  the  taxi  sped  through  the  long 
Kurfurstendamm  to  the  house  in  which  she  lived,  the 
vulgar  florid  house  with  its  red-brick  guardian  angels, 
gilded  balconies  and  castellated  turrets. 

She  wondered  in  what  mood  she  would  find  Lothar 
and  whether  he  would  behave  civilly  to  Andrew  Lovel. 
She  had  mentioned  his  presence  at  St.  Peter  in  her 
letters,  she  had  telegraphed  from  Freiburg  to  say  when 
they  would  arrive,  and  she  had  asked  to  have  the  spare 
room  got  ready  in  case  he  wished  to  stay  the  night  and 
go  on  next  day.  It  had  not  occurred  to  her  that  any 
change  in  her  ordinary  life  would  be  considered  neces- 
sary because  her  husband  had  received  a  call  to  arms, 
and  she  expected  her  own  desire  to  go  to  England  to 
be  treated  as  one  of  those  female  whims  no  sensible 
German  can  consider.  So  when  the  door  of  the  flat 
opened  she  was  amazed  to  see  every  article  of  furniture 


2i8  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

that  was  in  view  shrouded  in  dust-sheets,  while  Little 
Mamma  and  Mina  came  out  of  the  kitchen  to  receive 
her.  They  both  looked  sour,  solemn  and  depressed. 
They  kissed  her  with  funereal  sighs,  stared  inhospita- 
bly at  Andrew,  and  when  Brenda  presented  him  made 
little  bobs  of  acknowledgment  but  did  not  offer  to 
shake  hands. 

"Where  is  Lothar?"  said  Brenda. 

"He  is  in  the  dining-room  with  August.  To- 
morrow the  dear  boy  goes  to  face  death  for  the 
Fatherland." 

"But  why  are  you  wrapping  everything  up?"  said 
Brenda,  who  from  where  she  stood  could  see  into  the 
spare  room  and  saw  that  far  from  being  ready  it  was 
also  tucked  up  as  if  for  a  long  period  of  disuse.  "If 
Mr.  Lovel  stays  here  to-night  we  shall  want  the  spare 
room." 

"I  am  carrying  out  my  son's  wishes,"  said  Little 
Mamma  stiffly.  "He  will  doubtless  explain  them  to 
you  himself.  He  will  also  inform  you  that  it  is  not 
his  intention  to  entertain  the  enemies  of  his  country 
in  war-time." 

"But  has  England  declared  war?" 

"Not  yet.  Lothar  is  of  the  opinion  that  she  will.  She 
can  hardly  keep  out  of  it  since  she  has  engineered  it." 

"WHAT?"  cried  Brenda,  not  trusting  her  ears. 

"August  says  that  he  blames  England  for  every- 
thing," said  Mina;  and  she  glanced  at  Andrew  Lovel, 
wondering  perhaps  why,  in  spite  of  their  tactful  re- 
marks, his  face  remained  a  blank. 

"Mr.  Lovel  doesn't  understand  German,"  said 
Brenda.  "You'll  have  to  speak  English  if  you  wish 
him  to  know  what  you  say." 

As  she  spoke  she  walked  into  the  dining-room,  where 
she  found  Lothar  and  August  drinking  beer.  They 
got  up  to  receive  her  and  stared  woodenly  at  Andrew 
Lovel,  who  was  beginning  to  notice  the  unfriendliness 
of  his  reception  and  to  take  it  as  an  Englishman  does 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  219 

take  bad  manners,  with  chilly  dignity.  Brenda  knew 
he  must  be  puzzled  and  astonished  by  the  surroundings 
to  which  she  had  grown  accustomed,  by  the  two  gro- 
tesquely dressed  women,  by  the  ineffable  August,  who 
looked  downright  dirty  this  morning,  and  by  the  im- 
polite swagger  with  which  Lothar  sprawled  in  his 
chair  and  almost  turned  his  back  on  his  wife  and  her 
guest. 

"Mr.  Lovel,  at  great  inconvenience  to  himself, 
traveled  with  me  here,"  she  said  indignantly.  "He 
would  be  safely  over  the  frontier  if  he  had  gone  with 
my  brother  and  his  wife." 

"Pray  why  should  you  have  feared  to  travel  alone  ?" 
cackled  August.  "Who  would  have  harmed  you? 
You  seem  to  forget  that  you  are  in  a  highly  civilized 
country  and  not  in  the  wilds." 

"I  am  very  glad  I  was  not  alone,"  said  Brenda.  "It 
was  a  horrible  journey.  An  Englishman  was  murdered 
in  our  train,  close  to  our  carriage." 

"Who  murdered  him?"  asked  Lothar. 

"An  officer  who  wore  your  uniform.  I  didn't  hear 
his  name." 

"Did  you  hear  in  what  way  he  had  given  offense?" 
hectored  August. 

"He  was  unarmed,"  said  Brenda.  "The  man  who 
did  it  was  not  even  arrested.  He  traveled  opposite 
me  and  other  officers  shook  hands  with  him  .  .  ." 

"Then  doubtless  they  know  that  he  had  defended 
his  honor  and  was  in  the  right,"  said  Lothar. 

"It  was  a  cowardly  and  brutal  murder,"  said  Brenda 
in  a  low,  tense  voice.  Her  eyes  saw  no  one  in  the 
room  as  she  spoke  but  were  fixed  in  horror  on  that 
inward  picture  haunting  her  persistently:  the  picture 
of  her  countryman  broken  and  huddled  on  the  ground 
in  his  last  agony.  Her  husband's  start  of  angry  denial 
and  August's  reddening  face  recalled  her  to  the  present 
moment  and  she  spoke  again  in  a  lighter  tone. 

"We  are  both  extremely  tired  and  very  hungry," 


220  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

she  said.  "I  will  order  coffee  and  then  I  should  like 
to  speak  to  you,  Lothar.  I  do  not  know  why  you  are 
shutting  up  the  house  unless  you  think,  as  I  do,  that  I 
had  better  be  in  England  while  you  are  away.  In  that 
case  I  should  like  to  travel  with  Mr.  Lovel  and  not 
alone.  I  suppose  there  will  be  crowds  and  difficulties 
everywhere." 

"In  England!  With  our  enemies!  Just  so!  Just 
what  I  expected,"  screamed  August.  "The  proper 
place  for  the  wife  of  a  German  officer." 

"Aber  Brenda!"  mewed  Mina.  "Is  not  a  wife  one 
with  her  husband?" 

"Has  it  occurred  to  you  that  my  son  is  about  to 
offer  up  his  life  for  his  country?"  said  Little  Mamma. 
"Have  you  reflected  that  he  may  lose  his  limbs  or 
his  life;  probably  his  life?  Our  army  is  not  one  of 
paid  mercenaries  like  yours.  When  we  go  to  war  the 
blood  of  the  nation  is  spilled.  Our  brothers  and  sons 
fall  in  a  holy  cause." 

Lothar's  hand  was  drumming  on  the  table,  his  face 
was  gloomy  and  thunderous  and  his  eyes  had  an  un- 
pleasant light  in  them  as  he  glanced  at  his  wife. 

"You  will  not  go  to  England,"  he  said.  "Your  place 
is  here.  I  shall  shut  up  the  flat  and  you  will  live  with 
my  parents  while  I  am  away.  If  I  am  killed  you  can 
do  as  you  please,  but  while  I  am  away  you  will  obey 
my  orders." 

So  far  every  one  had  spoken  German,  and  Andrew 
had  not  been  able  to  follow  what  they  were  saying. 
But  he  could  see  that  he  was  not  being  made  welcome, 
that  the  whole  flat  was  topsy-turvy,  that  Brenda  was 
embarrassed  and  unhappy,  and  that  her  husband  and 
his  family  seemed  to  be  excited  and  annoyed.  He  had 
never  seen  any  one  quite  like  August  before,  and  he 
had  never  heard  any  one  groan  and  sigh  as  the  two 
women  did  at  intervals.  They  all  talked  with  their 
hands  and  nodded  their  heads  and  lifted  their  voices 
more  than  his  own  country-people  did,  but  he  had  seen 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  221 

that  kind  of  pantomime  at  St.  Peter  and  been  amused 
by  it.  Not  that  he  was  at  all  inclined  to  be  super- 
cilious about  other  people's  ways  because  they  varied 
from  his  own.  Such  varieties  are  partly  what  enlarge 
the  mind  in  foreign  travel,  and  if  August  had  encoun- 
tered live  English  people,  instead  of  mugging  them  up 
in  histories  written  with  a  bias,  he  might  have  been 
less  ridiculous  and  disagreeable.  As  it  was  he  cast 
venomous  glances  at  Andrew,  who  even  after  a  night's 
iourney  looked  well  dressed  and  well  groomed:  and 
in  his  mean  muddled  soul  hated  him  because  he  him- 
self wanted  a  bath  and  a  razor.  Andrew  had  some 
inkling  of  what  was  going  on  and  would  have  fled  long 
since  if  he  had  not  felt  bound  to  wait  on  Brenda's 
wishes.  The  entrance  of  a  maid-servant  in  answer  to 
her  summons  created  a  diversion,  and  when  she  had 
ordered  coffee  she  spoke  to  Lothar  in  English. 

"Will  you  look  after  Mr.  Lovel?"  she  said  to  Lothar. 
"I  want  to  take  off  my  hat.  When  we  have  had  coffee 
we  can  talk  over  things." 

"There  is  nothing  to  talk  over,"  said  Lothar,  speak- 
ing English,  too.  "I  strongly  advise  Mr.  Lovel  to 
leave  Berlin  by  the  next  train.  If,  as  we  expect,  Eng- 
land comes  in,  he  may  not  get  away  at  all.  We  shall 
not  allow  any  one  of  a  military  age  to  leave  the 
country." 

"But,  Lothar,  Mr.  Lovel  does  not  know  Berlin  and 
does  not  speak  German.  You  must  help  him  to  get 
away." 

"He  need  only  drive  to  Cook's  office,"  said  Lothar 
frigidly. 

Andrew  jumped  up  and  held  out  his  hand  to  Brenda. 

"Good-bye,"  he  said,  "that's  good  advice  about  Cook. 
I'll  get  the  name  of  a  hotel  from  them  and  stay  there 
to-night  ...  in  case  you  decide  to  go  to  England, 
you  know." 

"My  wife  will  not  go  to  England,"  said  Lothar. 
"She  will  stay  here." 


222  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"But  I  want  to  see  you  again  ..."  said  Brenda. 
"Can  you  come  back  when  you  have  arranged  about 
your  journey?" 

"This  is  MY  house,"  screamed  Lothar,  hammering 
so  loudly  on  the  table  with  his  fists  that  the  beer  jug 
and  glasses  danced  and  slid  on  the  metal  tray.  "I 
wear  the  Kaiser's  uniform.  I  will  receive  no  English- 
man as  a  friend." 

"It  is  simply  impudent  of  Brenda  to  expect  it!" 
said  August. 

"Good-bye,  Andrew,"  said  Brenda,  her  eyes  fearless 
and  indignant.  "Thank  you  for  seeing  me  safe  here. 
We  are  not  always  quite  as  excited  as  we  are  to-day. 
You  must  make  excuses  for  us.  Tell  them  at  home 
that  I'm  all  right." 

"I  shall  send  you  a  message  somehow,"  he  said  in  a 
low  voice,  "in  case  you  change  your  mind  and  come. 
I  have  this  address  written  down." 

So  Andrew  went,  after  holding  her  hand  an  instant 
in  his  own.  He  went  without  looking  at  any  one  else  in 
the  room  or  speaking  to  them ;  but  he  was  accompanied 
to  the  door  by  a  hiss  from  August,  and  though  he 
thought  the  professor  a  worm  he  recognized  that  his 
boiling  hate  was  symptomatic  of  public  feeling  and  that 
the  sooner  an  Englishman  crossed  the  frontier  the  better. 

"He  has  not  a  friend  in  Berlin,"  said  Brenda.  "I 
wish  he  had  not  insisted  on  bringing  me  back.  What 
must  he  think  of  our  manners?" 

"In  future  it  is  our  manners  that  will  impose  them- 
selves on  the  world,"  said  August.  "We  shall  be 
masters  of  Europe  in  six  weeks,  and  every  one  will 
have  to  bow  to  our  humanity  and  greatness." 

"When  you  boast  and  brag  a  little  less  I  shall  be- 
lieve in  your  greatness  a  little  more,"  said  Brenda,  and 
this  was  the  first  time  she  had  spoken  her  mind  to 
August.  He  looked  so  absurdly  taken  by  surprise 
that  she  laughed  .  .  .  laughed  at  the  learned  manly 
August  .  .  .  and  went  out  of  the  room. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  223 

"This  is  terrible,"  said  Little  Mamma,  "the  woman 
has  no  idea  of  what  is  becoming  to  one  in  her  position. 
My  beloved  boy,  what  a  mistake  you  made  when  yoii 
married  her.  Nevertheless,  my  offer  holds  good. 
While  our  warrior  is  absent  his  old  father  and  mother 
will  console  his  young  wife." 

This  sentiment  was  so  beautiful  and  in  the  course  of 
two  agitated  days  had  become  so  inextricably  mixed 
with  Little  Mamma's  ideas  that  she  repeated  it  with- 
out reflection  and  was  hurt  when  Lothar  showed 
impatience,  said  nothing  and  went  out  of  the  room. 

"Poor  boy!  He  is  upset,"  she  sighed.  "If  only 
he  would  take  a  Brausepulver." 

"After  all  he  may  return  to  us,"  said  Mina.  "They 
think  so  well  of  him  at  headquarters  that  they  may 
find  him  something  safe  to  do." 

"You  do  your  brother  an  injustice,  wife,"  said 
August.  "I  am  sure  that  he  wishes  for  nothing  better 
than  to  die  for  his  country." 

"Men  have  such  noble  sentiments,"  mewed  Mina; 
"I'm  deeply  attached  to  my  country,  but  I  don't  in 
the  least  wish  to  die  for  it.  I  prefer  to  live  and  see 
the  children  grow  up." 

"War  is  terrible !"  admitted  August,  "but  the  growth 
of  our  Empire  makes  it  a  condition  of  existence.  We 
must  be  brave  and  remember  that  our  cause  is  a  holy 
one.  We  have  God  with  us." 

Meanwhile  Lothar  had  gone  into  Brenda's  room  and 
sat  down  there.  She  was  seated,  too,  in  front  of  her 
toilet-table  and  was  taking  what  she  needed  from  her 
dressing-case.  She  was  so  tired  and  so  faint  with  hun- 
ger that  her  thoughts  were  dulled  and  she  did  not  feel 
ready  for  a  conflict  with  her  husband.  Yet  she  sup- 
posed there  must  be  one  if  she  said  anything  more 
about  going  to  England. 

"How  pale  you  look,"  he  began.  "Are  you  ill 
again?" 

"I'm  very  tired  .  .  .  and  hungry." 


224  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

He  rang  the  bell,  and  when  the  maid  answered  it 
she  brought  in  a  tray  with  coffee  and  fresh  rolls. 

"When  do  you  go,  Lothar?"  said  Brenda  directly 
they  were  by  themselves  again. 

"On  Tuesday  evening  at  eight." 

"Where  do  you  go?" 

"That  I  am  not  permitted  to  tell  you." 

"It  has  come  like  thunder.  We  had  seen  no  papers 
for  a  week." 

"We  are  ready." 

Brenda  buttered  a  roll  and  ate  some  of  it  with  diffi- 
culty. She  found  it  was  easier  to  drink  than  to  eat 
and  that  the  hot  coffee  revived  her. 

"Will  England  fight?"  she  went  on. 

"It  looks  like  it.  They  see  a  chance  of  stabbing  us 
in  the  back  and  mean  to  take  it." 

"But  you  must  have  known  they  would  stand  by 
France." 

"You  talk  like  a  fool.  England  stands  by  nothing 
but  her  money-bags.  She  never  has  and  never  will." 

It  was  not  exactly  the  moment  for  a  humorous 
memory,  and  yet  Brenda's  thoughts  played  her  a  trick 
and  brought  to  mind  the  Socialist  in  a  "Punch"  dia- 
logue who  spoke  with  "all  'istry  vivid  to  his  recollec- 
tion." She  wanted  all  'istry  vivid  to  her  recollection 
in  order  to  confute  Lothar,  and  yet  she  knew  that  a 
whole  library  of  histories  would  not  help  her. 

"I  shall  be  very  unhappy  here  by  myself  if  England 
and  Germany  are  at  war  .  .  ."  she  began. 

"You  will  not  be  by  yourself.  You  are  too  young 
to  live  alone.  Dass  schickt  sich  nicht.  I  have  made 
the  best  arrangements  possible  for  you  and  I  will  tol- 
erate no  discussions  about  it.  If  you  were  a  German 
woman  with  a  high  sense  of  duty,  you  would  seize  the 
chance  of  serving  and  comforting  my  parents.  It  is 
not  amusing  for  them  to  see  their  only  son  go  forth  to 
the  battle-field." 

"The  trouble  is  that  I  am  not  a  German  woman," 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  225 

said  Brenda.  "Your  parents  do  not  like  me,  and  I 
am  most  unwilling  to  live  with  them.  The  war  may 
last  a  long  time." 

"At  most  three  months.  We  shall  be  in  Paris  on 
Sedan  Day.  From  Paris  it  is  not  far  to  Calais." 

"But  it  is  a  long  way  from  Calais  to  Dover  .  .  . 
for  a  hostile  army,"  said  Brenda  impulsively. 

"London  will  be  in  greater  danger  than  Paris," 
said  Lothar,  scowling  at  her  remark  but  not  answering 
it.  "We  do  not  expect  to  destroy  Paris ;  but  we  shall 
reduce  London  to  ashes.  You  should  advise  your 
parents  to  escape  at  once." 

"I  should  like  to  go  to  them,"  said  Brenda. 

"The  wife  of  a  German  officer  remains  in  Germany. 
That  is  my  last  word." 

"Then  I  would  rather  live  on  here  by  myself." 

"That  is  out  of  question.     I  will  not  allow  it." 

"I  am  sure  that  I  shall  feel  in  the  way  in  the 
Joachimstrasse." 

"Who  was  that  man  you  brought  with  you  from 
St.  Peter?" 

"I  told  you.     Violet's  brother,  Andrew  Lovel." 

"He  is  in  love  with  you.     Any  one  can  see  it." 

"He  has  been  in  New  Zealand  for  two  years.  He 
may  go  back  there." 

"You  are  in  love  with  him.  I  see  that,  too.  You 
want  to  go  back  to  England  in  order  to  be  with  him 
while  I  am  shedding  my  blood  for  my  country.  That 
is  your  English  morality.  I  know  it  well." 

Brenda's  color  rose,  but  she  did  not  deny  what  her 
husband  said.  It  was  true,  and  yet  his  coarse  applica- 
tion of  the  truth  was  as  false  as  possible.  She  loved 
Andrew  with  her  whole  heart,  but  he  had  gone  and 
she  had  come  back  to  the  squalid  inferno  of  her  mar- 
riage because  the  Law  was  stronger  than  Love.  Her 
subtleties  of  mind  never  took  the  easy  path  that  follows 
desire  rather  than  duty.  Perhaps  it  was  a  mistaken 
idea  of  right  that  chained  her  to  a  union  from  which 


226  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

love  had  fled,  but  to  repudiate  it  would  involve  issues 
too  tangled  and  tremendous  for  present  contemplation. 
Perhaps  some  day  she  would  tell  Lothar  that  since 
they  no  longer  loved  each  other  they  should  separate, 
but  she  could  not  do  so  now.  The  future  had  become 
hidden  from  every  one  enmeshed  in  this  vast  horror 
of  war,  still  hovering  over  the  world  but  about  to 
descend  on  it,  spreading  ruin  and  misery.  Brenda 
had  only  been  a  child  at  the  time  of  the  Boer  War 
and  did  not  remember  much  about  it.  But  she  had 
read  descriptions  of  the  battlefields  in  the  Balkans  a 
year  ago. 

"I  will  do  whatever  you  wish,  Lothar/*  she  said, 
not  without  effort;  but  the  separation  impending  and 
the  stern  call  he  had  to  obey  seemed  to  harden  his 
heart  rather  than  soften  it,  and  to  rouse  his  easily 
roused  temper. 

"Of  course  you  will  do  as  I  wish,"  he  said  brutally ; 
"you  can't  help  it.  You've  no  money,  I  suppose,  and 
I  shall  give  you  none.  At  any  rate  this  is  my  ultima- 
tum. You  will  stay  with  my  parents  and  behave 
yourself  or  you  will  never  enter  my  house  again. 
We  are  not  in  a  patient  mood  to-day,  I  may  tell  you. 
We  are  not  inclined  to  stand  any  nonsense  from  those 
English  people  who  are  living  amongst  us.  Those  who 
are  wise  will  keep  quiet  and  dance  to  our  tune.  You 
have  to  learn  what  it  means  when  Germany  goes 
to  war." 


XX 

BRENDA  would  have  been  glad  to  make  friends 
with  Lothar  and  part  from  him  in  peace;  but 
she  saw  that  he  did  not  want  peace  or  friend- 
ship. His  fury  against  England  asked  for  a  victim 
and  she  was  handy.  He  and  all  his  family  re- 
garded her  desire  to  leave  Germany  when  her  German 
husband  was  going  to  war  as  a  crime  luckily  prevent- 
able. They  did  not  reflect  that  Germany  had  not 
done  much  to  win  her  affections.  They  watched  her 
closely,  as  if  they  thought  she  might  run  away,  and 
they  laid  enormous  stress  upon  the  manifold  duties 
those  who  stayed  at  home  could  perform  for  their 
country. 

When  they  went  to  the  station  on  Tuesday  to  see 
Lothar  off,  there  were  such  crowds  everywhere  and 
such  intense  excitement  that  Brenda  thought  she  could 
have  escaped  easily  if  she  had  known  where  to  go. 
But  she  only  had  ten  shillings  in  her  pocket,  and  no 
one,  except  possibly  Siegmund  Abel,  would  have  given 
or  lent  her  money.  Besides,  she  shrank  from  traveling 
alone  in  a  time  of  such  disturbance,  and  she  believed 
that  Andrew  Lovel  must  have  left  Berlin  before  now. 
She  went  home  with  the  Erdmanns,  was  installed 
in  their  handsomely-furnished  spare  room,  and  told 
next  morning  when  she  appeared  at  breakfast  that 
England  had  declared  war  on  Germany.  She  was 
told  other  things,  too,  that  interested  her  less,  some 
being  ancient  history  and  some  prophetic.  Herr 

227 


228  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Erdmann's  fulminations  were  mainly  directed  against 
English  policy  in  the  past,  and  were,  as  Brenda  knew, 
grossly  inaccurate.  He  was  in  a  lachrymose  mood 
this  morning,  and  went  back  to  1704  when,  he  said, 
poor  Germany  was  overrun  with  English  soldiers. 

When  Brenda  suggested  that  perhaps  English  sol- 
diers in  1704  were  helping  poor  Germany  to  fight  her 
battles,  he  got  as  red  as  a  turkey-cock,  and  said  that 
every  one  of  any  intelligence  knew  that  the  English 
were  not  taught  history  or,  in  fact,  anything  else  in 
their  schools.  When  that  discussion  ended,  because 
Brenda  retired  from  it,  August  arrived  in  a  state  of 
foaming  excitement.  There  had  been  a  riot,  he  said, 
in  front  of  the  British  Embassy  the  night  before,  be- 
cause the  Embassy  people  had  attacked  the  peaceable 
crowd  in  front  of  it.  It  was  not  safe  this  morning 
for  any  one  who  looked  English  to  go  out  of  doors. 

"But  how  did  the  Embassy  people  attack  the 
crowd?"  asked  Brenda. 

"They  threw  stones  at  it — huge  stones,  that  they 
must  have  collected  for  weeks  before.  Sir  Goschen 
was  there  directing  them." 

"How  can  you  believe. such  stuff?"  said  Brenda, 
and  drew  wicked  lightnings  from  August's  beady 
brown  eyes. 

"If  it  had  not  been  for  our  magnificent  police,  the 
whole  place  would  have  been  wrecked,"  he  cried.  "All 
the  windows  were  broken." 

"By  the  crowd?" 

"By  the  justly  incensed  crowd." 

"They  must  have  brought  stones  and  sticks  with 
them  then.  There  are  none  lying  about  in  the  street." 

"Not  at  all.  They  returned  those  that  were  thrown 
at  them.  That  can  be  proved." 

"I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  get  English  papers,"  said 
Brenda. 

"What  for?    They  all  lie." 

"I  should  like,  for  one  thing,  to  see  whether  the 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  229 

German  Ambassador  in  London  attacks  an  English 
crowd  and  gets  his  windows  broken." 

"A  German  Ambassador  would  have  too  much 
Kultur  to  do  such  a  thing,"  said  August. 

"I  suppose  I  shall  be  safe  out  of  doors,"  said  Brenda 
meditatively.  "The  crowd  will  hardly  molest  a 
woman." 

"We  are  the  most  chivalrous  and  humane  nation 
in  the  world,"  said  August.  "But  we  are  the  objects 
of  a  base  conspiracy.  Our  invincible  army  will  make 
short  work  of  the  foe.  Nevertheless,  we  are  roused, 
and  if  you  take  my  advice  you  will  keep  indoors  until 
we  are  in  Paris." 

"When  do  you  expect  to  be  in  Paris?"  asked 
Brenda,  who  remembered  what  Lothar  had  said,  but 
thought  it  would  be  amusing  to  hear  August's  forecast, 
too. 

"We  do  not  expect.  We  do  not  boast.  Wre  know. 
We  shall  be  in  Paris  on  Sedan  Day  and  in  London 
three  weeks  later." 

"Poor  London!'*  said  Brenda,  and  as  she  looked 
at  the  professor's  mean  puffy  face  she  thought  of 
London  as  you  can  think  of  anything  big  and  com- 
plicated in  a  moment,  with  swift  unconnected  glimpses 
here  and  there,  some  moving,  some  still,  some  atmos- 
pheric, but  all  London,  ugly,  beautiful,  laughed  at  a 
little,  loved. 

"How  will  you  get  there  ?"  she  said. 

"In  our  Zeppelins." 

"But  you  can't  use  your  airships  to  murder  non- 
combatants.  No  civilized  power  would  do  such  a 
thing." 

"Why  not?  If  the  women  and  children  are  mur- 
dered in  sufficient  numbers,  the  men  will  sue  for  peace. 
We  shall  not  make  war  with  rose-water.  We  shall 
stagger  humanity.  And  we  shall  bring  perfidious 
Albion  to  her  knees." 

Brenda,  who  had  not  seen  an  English  paper  for 


230  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

more  than  a  week,  did  not  even  know  that  the  Navy 
was  mobilized.  All  she  knew  of  England  led  her  to 
think  that  probably  the  English  were  not  ready.  They 
did  not  want  war  and  the  politicians  in  power  wanted 
peace  at  almost  any  price.  Their  attention  was  fixed 
on  Ireland  and  Labor.  The  German  menace  was  a 
chimera  invented  by  the  Yellow  Press  and  would  never 
materialize.  Brenda  had  often  heard  her  father's 
friends,  who  were  mostly  old-fashioned  Liberals,  talk 
in  this  way  and  try  to  persuade  the  Unionist  Jem 
that  Germany  was  a  land  of  scholars  and  dreamers, 
greatly  misunderstood.  With  powerful  foes  to  east 
and  west  it  had  to  keep  up  an  army,  while  as  for  its 
navy,  its  young,  innocent  small  navy  .  .  .  was  it  not 
rather  petty  and  suspicious  of  Great  Britain  to  grudge 
a  cousinly  neighbor  a  few  ships?  They  were  wanted 
to  protect  German  merchantmen. 

"I  must  get  hold  of  some  English  papers,"  she  said. 
"I  may  find  some  have  come  for  me.  Anyhow,  if  the 
flat  is  to  be  shut  up  while  Lothar  is  away,  I  must  go 
there  and  see  to  things." 

"I  thought  that  my  wife  and  Mina  had  seen  to 
everything,"  said  Herr  Erdmann,  looking  offended. 
But  Brenda,  after  a  year  in  Germany,  had  become 
hardened  to  the  family  habit  of  looking  offended,  and 
sometimes  went  her  own  way  in  spite  of  it.  She  did 
this  morning.  She  asked  Herr  Erdmann  what  money 
she  could  get  at,  found  that  Lothar  had  made  no 
provision  for  her  and  started  for  her  home  with  the 
ten  shillings  left  from  her  holiday  expenses.  There 
was  no  money  to  be  had  anywhere,  Herr  Erdmann 
told  her,  in  consequence  of  the  crisis,  but  matters  of 
that  kind  would  soon  be  organized.  Meanwhile  no 
man  knew  whether  he  was  going  to  be  ruined  or  en- 
riched by  the  war,  but  for  his  part  he  expected  to 
rub  along.  His  interests  were  in  leather,  and  leather 
would  be  wanted  in  unusual  quantities. 

Brenda  was  not  molested  as  she  went  in  a  tram  car 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  231 

to  her  end  of  the  long  Kurfiirstendamm.  People 
talked  of  nothing  but  the  war,  and  when  they  noticed 
that  she  was  English  expressed  their  opinion  of  Eng- 
land with  the  urbanity  to  which  she  had  become 
accustomed.  The  term  pig-dog  left  her  cold  when  she 
heard  it  on  every  tongue,  and  she  thought  that  when 
she  got  to  the  flat  she  would  look  it  out  in  her  big 
dictionary  because  she  did  not  really  know  what  a 
pig-dog  was.  She  guessed  at  a  dog  that  herds  and 
controls  pigs  as  a  sheep  dog  herds  and  controls  sheep; 
and  she  hoped  that  if  she  was  right  the  epithet  as 
applied  to  the  English  would  prove  prophetic  and 
descriptive.  She  supposed,  however,  that  England's 
share  in  the  war  would  be  entirely  naval  and  that 
August's  talk  and  Lothar's  talk  about  sacking  London 
was  just  the  usual  bluff.  She  had  read  accounts  of 
the  Franco-German  war  in  1870  and  she  had  heard 
her  father  talk  of  it.  Her  picture  of  that  campaign 
was  of  a  patriotic  and  dignified  nation  going  forth  to 
defend  the  right,  fighting  cleanly,  dying  bravely,  se- 
vere but  just  in  victory,  merciful  to  civilians,  honestly 
paying  its  way  and  doing  no  damage  that  could  be 
avoided.  Those  old  ideas  of  Germany  had  been  in  the 
background  lately,  and  now  that  they  reappeared 
startled  her  by  their  unreality.  Those  Germans  were 
not  these  Germans,  boastful  as  children,  vain  as 
savages,  shrieking  from  the  house-tops  that  might 
was  right.  No  doubt  they  were  efficient  and  formida- 
ble in  war.  "These  fellows  are  like  machines  with  a 
devil  inside  them."  So  Goethe  had  described  the 
Spanish  soldiers  whose  cruelties  in  the  Netherlands 
were  remembered  and  accursed  after  more  than  four 
hundred  years.  Now  in  the  twentieth  century  the 
German  machine  was  hammering  at  the  gate  of  the 
Netherlands  and  would  probably  let  the  devil  loose 
if  it  were  thwarted.  Brenda  knew  by  this  time  what 
the  civilization  of  a  Prussian  amounted  to  when  he 
went  mad  with  temper.  But  she  took  for  granted 


232  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

that  even  Prussians  would  respect  non-combatants  and 
women  and  children. 

When  she  got  to  the  flat  she  found  that  there  was  a 
great  deal  to  do.  The  maids  had  been  paid  off  and 
dismissed  yesterday,  so  she  was  quite  alone.  Her 
husband  and  his  family  considered  her  an  incompetent 
housekeeper  partly  because  her  ideas  were  English 
ideas  and  partly  because  she  had  shown  inexperience. 
She  considered  that  German  women  were  devoted  but 
fussy,  but  the  chief  difference  between  the  family  and 
herself  was  between  their  comments  and  her  silence. 
They  told  her  all  she  did  was  wrong.  She  disliked 
many  of  their  ways  and  did  not  say  so.  She  thought 
they  harried  their  servants  and  sacrificed  their  minds 
to  their  stomachs;  they  thought  her  uninformed  in 
the  domestic  arts  and  happy-go-lucky.  Yet  she  was 
not  a  happy-go-lucky  nature,  but  rather  serious  and 
dutiful.  She  puzzled  over  things,  too,  and  all  through 
her  flat  she  found  cases  of  what  puzzled  her  in  Ger- 
many. The  Germans  were  the  most  efficient,  civilized, 
moral  and  industrious  people  on  earth;  she  had  their 
word  for  it.  They  were  the  salt  of  the  earth.  Their 
Kaiser  had  told  them  so.  Both  men  and  women  in 
their  respective  and  sharply  separated  spheres  had 
reached  heights  of  perfection  from  which  they  looked 
down  at  decadent  races  like  the  English  and  the 
French.  Why  then  had  the  kitchen  saucepans  been 
put  away  in  such  a  state  of  grease?  Why  were  ends 
of  food  left  in  the  food  cupboard  and  condiments  in 
the  cruets  ?  Why  was  the  linen  in  a  state  of  confusion 
and  Lofhar's  dressing-room  still  strewn  with  the  debris 
of  his  hasty  packing?  Brenda  had  been  told  that 
she  need  only  attend  to  her  personal  belongings,  and 
as  she  had  slept  late  after  her  journey  this  had  taken 
her  most  of  her  time.  But  what  intrigued  her  was  Lit- 
tle Mamma's  remark  at  breakfast  this  morning  about 
having  tucked  away  her  dear  boy's  possessions  safely 
and  in  an  orderly  manner,  that  an  Englishwoman 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  233 

would  not  know  how  to  do  it  or  be  inclined  to  take 
the  trouble.  Why  praise  yourself  so  loudly  and  so 
much  for  what,  after  all,  you  have  not  done  over 
well?  It  was  the  same  elsewhere,  thought  Brenda, 
as  with  her  sleeves  turned  up  she  attacked  the  dressing- 
room  floor  with  a  dust-pan  and  a  short  brush.  "Made 
in  Germany"  was  not  the  hall-mark  of  perfection  it 
should  have  been  if  German  self -appraisement  was 
justified.  The  Germans  did  some  things  well  and 
some  things  badly,  like  other  nations.  They  had  fine 
qualities  and  qualities  the  reverse  of  fine.  Why  were 
they  making  war  on  the  world  and  springing  on  it  like 
a  thief  in  the  night?  The  nation  was  acting  as  the 
individual  acted,  using  its  sword  as  August,  for  in- 
stance, used  his  tongue,  to  proclaim  his  own  superior- 
ity and  be  a  scourge  and  an  offense  to  others.  But 
their  sword  no  doubt  was  sharp  and  ready.  For  that 
the  whole  nation  travailed  and  denied  itself.  What 
would  happen  now  that  it  was  unsheathed  against 
her  own  sleepy  country?  Would  the  fight  be  like 
one  between  a  whale  and  an  elephant,  as  Bismarck 
had  said,  or  would  they  come  to  a  grapple? 

A  ring  at  the  door  diverted  her  ideas  and  she  went 
to  answer  it,  hoping  for  a  postman  and  letters.  But 
when  she  opened  the  door  she  saw  Andrew  Lovel,  who 
by  this  time  should  have  been  far  away. 

"You  haven't  gone,"  she  cried. 

"No."  He  shut  the  door  and  Brenda  took  him  into 
the  drawing-room.  "Why  didn't  you  write  ?"  she  said. 
"You  said  you  would." 

"I  called  yesterday  and  left  my  card  with  my  address 
on  it." 

"No  one  told  me  you  had  called.  What  time  did 
you  come?" 

"About  three." 

"I  was  in.  I  was  packing.  Who  opened  the 
door?" 

"A  boy  in  uniform." 


234  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"Fritz!    Did  you  ask  for  me?" 

"Yes;  but  I  couldn't  make  him  understand  and 
while  I  was  trying  that  little  cat-faced  woman  came 
along  .  .  ." 

"Mina!" 

"And  said  you  could  not  see  any  one.  So  I  thought 
I  would  have  another  try  to-day." 

"But  why  haven't  you  started?  It  isn't  safe 
here." 

"I'm  going  on  Thursday  in  the  Embassy  train.  I 
stumbled  against  an  old  school  chum  who  has  had  a 
diplomatic  job  here  and  he  is  looking  after  me." 

"I  wish  I  could  go  with  you." 

"I  came  to  see  about  that,"  said  Andrew. 

"But  my  husband  has  not  changed  his  mind,"  said 
Brenda.  "He  expects  me  to  live  with  his  parents  while 
he  is  away." 

"Are  you  all  right  with  them?" 

"Yes.  I'm  all  right.  At  least  I  should  be  if  I 
could  feel  German  .  .  .  but  I  can't.  I'm  haunted!" 

"Haunted!" 

"By  a  line  ...  by  three  words — 'England,  my 
England.'  Everything  is  in  it.  Everything  I  love 
and  believe." 

"Yes,"  said  Andrew,  and  silence  fell  between  them. 

"They  expect  to  be  in  Paris  on  Sedan  Day,"  said 
Brenda,  speaking  when  speech  became  easier  than  the 
quivering  silence  that  took  them  closer  and  closer  in 
thought  and  feeling.  "Then  they  are  going  to  invade 
us  and  sack  London.  I  know  what  you  must  think 
when  they  boast  and  brag  as  they  do  .  .  ." 

"Pride  goes  before  a  fall.  I  used  to  write  it  in 
copy-books." 

"But  it  isn't  simply  boasting.  Tell  them  so  in 
England,  Andrew.  Tell  them  they  are  up  against 
something  formidable  this  time.  'Machines  and 
devils  in  the  machines.'  That  describes  them.  You'll 
see.  And  such  hordes  of  them.  I  know  England 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  235 

won't  believe  in  it  at  first.  Her  idea  of  a  German  is 
of  a  little  Whitechapel-hairdresser  or  a  waiter,  tallow- 
faced  and  obsequious." 

"They  are  with  us." 

"But  they  have  all  been  trained  and  they  are 
rushing  back  at  this  very  moment.  England  will 
lock  the  door  when  they  have  gone.  And  they  will 
turn  them  into  machines,  and  in  the  machines  there 
will  be  devils;  and  devils  will  lead  them." 

"Come  back  with  me,  Brenda.  I'm  sure  your 
father  and  mother  would  be  glad  if  you  did." 

"I  don't  know.  They  have  ideas  about  marriage. 
They  think  it  is  irrevocable." 

"Well  ...  so  it  is,"  said  Andrew,  and  Brenda 
could  have  laughed  at  his  simplicity  if  she  had  not  felt 
more  inclined  to  cry.  Dear  Andrew!  with  his  plain 
code,  his  wholesome  opinion  and  his  want  of  subtlety. 
He  wanted  to  take  her  out  of  danger  and  distress,  but 
he  wanted  it  for  her  sake  only.  She  could  see  him  on 
their  journey  guarding  her  and  serving  her  till  she 
was  safely  home,  and  then  with  his  heart  strong  within 
him  bidding  her  good-bye.  For  she  knew  beyond  a 
doubt  to-day  that  he  loved  her  even  as  she  loved  him, 
for  ever.  Yet  she  saw  herself  letting  him  go ;  and  so 
the  old  problem  began  to  vex  her  soul  again,  the 
problem  of  a  standard  you  carry  through  life  and  may 
not  lower  although  victory  denies  you  your  heart's 
desire. 

"Tell  them  that  you've  seen  me,"  she  said,  trying 
to  speak  more  lightly.  "Tell  them  that  I'm  living 
with  Lothar's  parents  in  the  greatest  comfort.  Will 
letters  pass  between  England  and  Germany?" 

"I've  no  idea.     I  should  think  so." 

"I  shall  write  and  they  must  write,  too;  and  so 
must  you,  Andrew.  Oh!  I  do  envy  you  going  back 
where  your  heart  is  .  .  ." 

She  stopped  because  Andrew  Lovel  looked  at  her 
and  his  eyes  said  what  his  lips  dared  not.  His  heart 


236  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

was  not  going  with  him  because  in  spite  of  all  the  laws 
of  God  and  man  she  had  it  in  her  keeping.  And  this 
was  the  moment  of  farewell,  possibly  the  last  moment 
they  would  spend  together  in  this  uncertain  world. 
She  looked  at  him  and  tried  to  print  his  likeness  on 
her  mind  so  that  she  might  see  him  as  he  lived,  every 
day  of  the  long  empty  years  to  come. 

"You  must  go  now,  Andrew,"  she  said  at  last.  "It's 
no  use.  We  both  know  it's  no  use.  I  must  stay  and 
you  must  go." 

"Yes,  I  must  go,"  said  Andrew.  "But  you  won't 
forget,  Brenda,  will  you?  If  ever  you  want  me  .  .  ." 

"I  know." 

"Wherever  I  am.     Whatever  I'm  doing    .     .    ." 

"Good-bye!" 


XXI 

BRENDA  belonged  to  a  generation  that  did  not 
take  everything  its  grandfather  and  grandmother 
believed  for  granted.  She  had  seen  "Mile- 
stones," that  poignant  picture  of  the  progress  of  ideas. 
She  had  seen  all  the  plays  that  inveigh  against  the 
moral  and  social  laws:  she  had  listened  to  ultra- 
modern women  talk  of  the  right  to  motherhood:  two 
of  her  school-friends  were  brilliant  suffragettes  and 
had  been  in  prison:  another  had  taken  to  the  road 
for  three  months  because  she  wanted  to  see  what  it 
was  like.  In  Berlin,  she  had  met  women  at  Elsa's 
house  who  were  in  fierce  revolt  against  everything 
ordained  by  man:  and  above  all  against  marriage. 
In  fact,  Brenda's  experience  was  not  out  of  date.  It 
is  for  her  conduct  you  must  make  allowances.  Some 
strong  inexplicable  sense  of  duty  had  taken  her  back 
to  Berlin  when  she  wanted  to  go  to  England  with  Jem 
and  Violet:  and  had  kept  her  there  although  her  hus- 
band deserved  nothing  at  her  hands.  Perhaps  her 
faithfulness  was  to  her  ideal  of  marriage  rather  than 
to  Lothar.  She  knew  that  if  she  had  fled  to  England 
with  Andrew  Lovel  she  would  not  have  felt  the  inward 
serenity  that  supported  her  now,  although  when  she 
was  hard  pressed  she  often  asked  herself  if  she  had 
not  been  a  fool.  A  letter  that  came  through  from 
Violet  almost  persuaded  her  of  it.  "We  had  a  fright 
when  we  stopped  at  Strasburg,"  she  wrote.  "We 
were  told  by  the  guard  that  an  officer  wished  to  speak 
to  us;  ^n4  we  expected  trouble,  Put  the  officer  wa,s 

237 


238  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

an  agreeable  sad-looking  man  who  had  an  English 
wife  and  a  young  child.  He  said  it  was  impossible  to 
leave  them  in  Germany  and  asked  if  we  would  escort 
them  safely  to  England.  Of  course  we  did,  and  it 
made  me  wish  more  than  ever  that  you  had  come 
with  us.  This  couple  had  been  living  in  a  little 
frontier  town,  and  the  things  the  wife  told  us  about 
military  society  there  and  about  the  way  she  had  been 
treated  because  she  was  English  made  one's  blood  boil. 
We  told  her  about  you,  and  she  said  she  supposed  it 
would  be  better  in  Berlin.  In  a  great  city  people  are 
never  as  rancorous  and  petty  as  in  a  village." 

Brenda  could  not  agree  to  that.  She  thought  that 
no  village  could  outdo  Berlin  in  spite  and  rancour. 
She  had  heard  August  actually  boast  of  the  insults 
heaped  on  the  members  of  the  Russian  Embassy  as 
they  left  Berlin.  He  had  been  in  the  crowd.  He 
had  seen  the  women  and  children  crouching  on  the 
floor  of  the  cars  to  avoid  the  blows  of  the  mob.  He 
himself  was  not  ashamed  to  say  that  he  spat  at  them. 
Why  not?  Was  it  not  patriotic  and  noble  to  be 
moved  by  your  country's  danger  and  enraged  by  the 
sight  of  your  country's  foes.  If  he  had  his  way  he 
would  imprison  every  one  of  hostile  blood,  regardless 
of  age  and  sex.  Moreover  he  had  the  best  authority 
for  believing  that  this  would  shortly  be  done.  He 
glanced  at  Brenda  as  he  spoke,  but  she  did  not  ask  any 
questions  or  look  perturbed,  because  she  did  not  attach 
weight  to  what  August  said.  She  asked  Siegmund 
Abel  if  she  stood  in  danger  of  internment  and  he 
assured  her  that  she  did  not.  In  Germany  a  married 
woman  is  if  possible  less  of  an  entity  than  in  other 
western  countries.  As  the  wife  of  a  German  officer 
Brenda  was  safe  from  the  police. 

But  she  was  not  happy.  She  had  not  realized  what 
it  would  mean  to  live  amongst  the  enemies  of  her 
country  in  war  time.  At  least  she  had  known  that 
it  would  be  tiresome  and  disagreeable;  but  she  had 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  239 

not  foreseen  how  acute  her  sense  of  desolation  would 
soon  become  and  her  longing  for  trustworthy  news. 
She  had  letters  from  home  at  irregular  intervals,  but 
no  English  papers  reached  her  and  she  could  not  buy 
them  in  Berlin.  In  fact  Siegmund  Abel,  who  was  not 
a  scaremonger,  warned  her  not  to  attempt  it  or  in 
any  way  to  emphasize  her  nationality  out  of  doors. 
She  could  not  help  looking  English,  and  she  soon  found 
that  on  this  account  she  must  not  walk  in  crowded 
streets  or  even  enter  shops  alone,  and  her  husband's 
people  let  her  see  that  they  preferred  not  to  show 
themselves  in  public  places  with  her.  Brenda  could 
hardly  blame  them,  for  every  day  there  were  stories 
of  insults  offered  to  English  people,  while  the  restric- 
tions put  on  those  remaining  in  the  city  grew  more  and 
more  severe.  At  first  she  tried  paying  a  few  visits 
in  the  usual  way,  but  she  now  gave  this  up.  People 
she  had  liked  received  her  kindly  but  with  such  evident 
embarrassment  that  for  their  sakes  she  did  not  go 
there  again:  while  some  she  had  been  bound  to  know 
officially  but  had  never  liked  were  downright  rude. 
She  could  not  believe  that  the  same  thing  was  going 
on  in  England  in  the  same  class.  She  hoped  not. 

The  old  Erdmanns  were  kind  according  to  their 
lights.  She  occupied  the  best  bedroom,  had  plenty 
to  eat  and  drink,  and  was  never  reproached  with  her 
naionality  except  by  innuendo.  In  fact  Herr  Erd- 
mann  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  she  could  not  help 
having  been  born  and  bred  in  London,  and  that  she 
was  not  personally  responsible  for  Sir  Edward  Grey's 
villainy  in  causing  the  war.  Frau  Erdmann  was  not 
so  broad-minded  as  her  husband.  She  said  she  could 
not  be.  Every  one  with  English  sympathies  was  re- 
sponsible, but  Brenda  was  her  daughter-in-law  and 
therefore  entitled  to  protection  as  long  as  Lothar  was 
alive.  Her  being  in  the  house  made  extra  work  for 
everybody,  but  what  did  work  matter  at  such  a  time 
at  this?  It  prevented  one  from  thinking  too  much 


240  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

about  what  was  happening  east  and  west.  Fran 
Erdmann  was  very  seriously  annoyed  with  Mina  one 
day  because  she  said  she  meant  to  knit  some  winter 
socks  for  the  soldiers.  The  war  would  be  over  before 
the  leaves  fell;  and  German  men  would  be  in  their 
homes  again.  The  army  was  in  Brussels  already. 
How  many  days'  march  then  was  it  from  Brussels  to 
Paris  in  this  glorious  weather? 

No  one  seemed  able  to  answer  Frau  Erdmann. 
People  talked  of  Louvain  instead.  It  had  been  burned 
to  the  ground  because  the  brutal  Belgians  had  fired 
from  their  houses  on  peaceable  German  troops. 
The  All-Highest  said  his  heart  bled  for  Louvain! 
What  a  Christian  message !  What  a  noble  sentiment ! 
Worthy  of  the  most  humane  and  civilized  nation  in 
the  world. 

"When  a  village  or  a  city  is  burned  to  the  ground 
in  war,  what  becomes  of  the  people  who  live  in  it?" 
said  Brenda,  and  was  told  that  hardships  were  in- 
separable from  war  even  when  the  most  humane  and 
civilized  nation  in  the  world  was  waging  it.  She 
was  so  little  satisfied  with  this  reply  and  so  anxious 
to  know  what  was  really  happening  that  she  wrote 
to  her  mother  asking  urgently  for  news  of  what  the 
English  were  doing  and  for  English  papers.  But  none 
came.  She  observed  that  the  mood  of  Berlin  was 
changing  for  the  worse:  although  the  fall  of  Namur 
was  celebrated  with  rejoicings.  Perhaps  the  Belgian 
resistance  had  done  something  more  than  was  admitted. 
Perhaps  at  any  rate  it  had  given  France  and  England 
breathing  time.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  there  had  been 
a  hitch  in  the  German  plans.  After  the  fall  of  Mau- 
berge  and  the  destruction  of  Louvain  came  some  bad 
news,  from  Heligoland  and  Togoland:  nothing 
that  could  affect  ultimate  results,  but  enough  to  rouse 
fresh  feeling  against  the  English.  Brenda  met  it 
everywhere. 

"I  wish  I  could  go  to  England,"  she  said  to  Sieg* 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  241 

mund  Abel,  and  he  answered  that  in  his  opinion  she 
ought  to  have  gone  when  war  was  declared.  Now 
it  would  not  be  easy. 

"Can't  I  go  by  sea  from  Hamburg  to  Dover?"  she 
said. 

He  looked  at  her. 

"Do  you  think  that  our  ships  are  leaving  Hamburg 
as  usual?"  he  said. 

Brenda  had  not  thought  about  it.  She  had  heard 
August  say  that  the  English  navy  was  in  hiding 
because  it  was  afraid  of  the  German  navy,  and  she 
had  seen  the  same  thing  solemnly  asserted  in  most 
German  newspapers.  She  did  not  exactly  believe  it, 
but  of  the  real  state  of  things  she  had  not  the  least 
idea. 

"If  our  navy  is  afraid  of  yours  and  our  soldiers 
have  all  run  away  from  yours,  why  do  you  hate  us  so?" 
she  said  to  August. 

"You  have  engineered  this  war,"  he  snarled. 

"But  why  did  we  since  we  have  no  army  and  an 
inferior  navy  ?" 

"You  let  your  Allies  fight  for  you.  That's  the 
English  way.  The  Russians  are  in  East  Prussia. 
Berlin  is  full  of  refugees.  God  knows  what  will 
happen  to  us  all." 

Brenda  could  not  go  on  with  her  questions.  The 
excitable  little  man  was  demented  by  fright  and  fury 
she  perceived,  and  she  wondered  what  nerve  he  would 
have  next  week  for  a  lecture  on  the  war  that  he  was 
to  give  in  aid  of  a  voluntary  hospital.  These  were 
dark  days  for  Brenda  for  the  English*  news  that 
reached  her  was  uniformly  bad.  She  heard  and  read 
that  the  British  Expeditionary  Force  had  been  cut  to 
pieces,  that  the  Germans  were  thundering  at  the  gates 
of  Paris  and  that  Antwerp  would  shortly  be  in  their 
hands.  The  mood  of  Berlin  had  changed  again  to  one 
of  triumph  curiously  mingled  with  the  most  vindictive 
hate.  She  had  spoken  the  truth  to  August  when  she 


242  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

said  that  she  did  not  understand  it.  If  the  Germans 
believed  what  they  said  about  their  enemies:  if  they 
were  as  sure  of  victory  as  they  pretended,  why  did 
they  consume  themselves  with  rage?  Brenda  had 
heard  of  people  turning  green  with  rage,  but  whenever 
August  talked  of  England  she  saw  it  happen.  And 
why  always  England  —  that  nation  of  un warlike 
hucksters  who  would  not  arm  themselves  and  fight? 
Why  not  the  Russian  rabble  or  the  French  degenerates 
for  a  change?  It  was  whispered  that  the  All-Highest 
felt  sorry  for  the  French  and  would  soon  allow  them  to 
conclude  a  separate  peace.  Russia,  too,  might  receive 
a  drubbing  and  then  be  permitted  to  lie  down.  But 
England!  No  fate  that  the  poets  of  the  nation  could 
invent  was  bad  enough  for  England.  Brenda  saw 
most  of  the  comic  papers  and  therefore  saw  the  depths 
to  which  the  most  cultured  nation  could  descend.  Yet 
they  only  echoed  what  she  heard  everywhere  around 
her.  One  poet  described  a  funeral  pyre  on  which 
the  whole  English  race,  men,  women  and  children 
were  burnt  in  sacrifice.  He  said  the  smoke  of  it 
reached  heaven  and  the  fumes  of  it  were  pleasing  to 
German  nostrils.  In  England  Brenda  might  have 
laughed  as  she  read  it.  In  Berlin  she  shuddered. 
For  this  cult  of  hate  was  making  itself  more  and  more 
felt:  and  though  it  was  a  pitiable  thing  it  was  also 
disturbing  to  any  one  marked  out  for  a  victim.  Be- 
sides, as  time  went  on  she  felt  that  she  was  an  incubus 
in  her  husband's  family.  They  did  not  want  an  Eng- 
lishwoman with  them.  Her  presence  was  almost  a 
reflection  on  their  loyalty,  and  as  the  temper  of  the 
city  rose  might  constitute  a  danger.  She  wrote  in  this 
strain  to  Lothar,  who  was  in  Brussels,  but  received 
no  answer.  She  knew  through  Elsa  that  the  beautiful 
Jutta  was  in  Brussels,  too.  She  had  written  describing 
a  moonlight  picnic  to  Louvain  and  had  compared  it 
to  Pompeii.  August  had  said  it  was  a  beautiful 
highly  cultured  letter,  and  that  only  a  German  woman 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  243 

could  have  written  it.  Brenda,  little  as  she  knew  about 
Louvain,  thought  it  an  odious  letter,  but  did  not  dare 
to  say  so. 

Willy  nilly  she  had  to  go  to  August's  lecture  about 
the  war  and  its  causes.  The  whole  household  was 
going  and  Little  Mamma  said  that  Brenda  must  come 
with  them.  If  she  refused  and  stayed  at  home  then 
Little  Mamma  would  naturally  stay  at  home,  too.  She 
could  not  leave  a  guest  alone  even  if  the  guest  was  a 
daughter-in-law.  Yes!  Little  Mamma  knew  such 
things  were  done  in  England.  But  she  had  never 
heard  or  read  that  the  English  understood  hospitality. 
Mina  would  be  hurt  to  tears  because,  after  the  lecture, 
she  expected  the  whole  family  and  one  or  two  of 
August's  colleagues  to  supper.  She  had  expressly 
said  that  she  meant  to  make  Brenda  welcome  as  the 
wife  of  Lothar,  and  try  to  forget  that  she  belonged  to 
the  same  nation  as  the  traitor  Grey.  Nevertheless, 
if  Brenda  insisted  on  separating  from  the  others  on  an 
occasion  meant  to  unite  and  cheer  them  .  .  . 

So  Brenda  went  and  listened,  unedified  and  uncon- 
vinced. The  lecture  was  given  in  a  large  hall  crammed 
with  a  sympathetic  audience.  From  the  first  August 
held  it  spellbound.  The  beady-eyed,  tallow-faced  little 
man  had  the  curious  power  many  of  his  betters  lack, 
the  power  of  making  a  heated  appeal  to  the  passions 
of  a  crowd  and  firing  it.  His  lecture  was  really  a 
tirade  against  England,  coupled  with  a  deification  of 
Germany,  and  this  was  naturally  a  popular  theme. 
Never  in  her  life  had  Brenda  heard  such  violent  in- 
vective or  such  a  simple  reason  given  for  complicated 
and  far-reaching  facts.  England  had  attacked  Ger- 
many because  she  was  smitten  with  envy  and  wished 
to  destroy  her  most  powerful  rival.  She  had  land 
and  money,  but  she  had  neither  a  soul  nor  a  mind. 
Her  sons  were  too  depraved  and  degenerate  to  fight 
themselves.  They  had  to  pay  black  and  yellow  men 
to  fight  for  them.  Their  tyranny  over  the  races  they 


244  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

oppressed,  their  baseness  and  their  despicable  frivolity 
cried  to  heaven,  and  heaven  itself  had  ordained  their 
downfall  at  the  hands  of  the  noblest  and  the  mightiest 
nation  that  had  ever  taken  the  field.  The  audience 
was  asked  to  observe  that  the  lecturer  spoke  of  the 
nation  taking  the  field  in  brilliant  and  shame-inflict- 
ing contrast  with  the  mercenaries  in  petticoats  and 
turbans  hired  by  England  to  murder  Germans.  God 
help  the  heroes  who  fell  into  such  hands.  He  would 
now  permit  himself,  if  the  audience  could  bear  it, 
to  read  a  few  verses  of  the  patriotic  poem  that  in- 
spired the  miserable  British  troops  both  when  they 
faced  the  invincible  foe  and  when  they  ran  away. 
He  had  tried  in  vain  to  find  any  inspiration  in  the 
words,  or  a  single  soul-ennobling  idea,  or  even  manly 
courage. 

"Good-bye,  Piccadilly;  good-bye,  Leicester  Square!" 

He  himself  had  never  been  in  London,  but  he  had 
heard  of  these  places  at  midnight,  and  considered  that 
men  standing  between  life  and  death  should  have 
more  serious  memories.  However,  the  English  could 
sing  what  they  pleased  to-day.  To-morrow  their 
conquerors  would  set  the  tune.  What  he  begged  of 
his  audience  to  remember,  what  he  imposed  on  them 
as  a  sacred  duty,  was  inextinguishable  Hate.  Every 
true  German  must  feel  it.  Every  true  German  must 
practice  it.  England  was  the  enemy.  England  must 
go  under.  Down  with  England! 

The  audience  certainly  enjoyed  it  and  agreed  with 
August:  and  Brenda,  observing  this,  wondered  again 
what  had  happened  to  Germany?  Were  these  people 
educated  if  they  could  believe  the  stuff  and  nonsense 
August  preached  and  their  newspapers  wrote?  and 
were  they  civilized  if  this  gospel  of  hate  seized  them 
like  a  pestilence?  Brenda  knew  as  little  about  his- 
tory and  politics  as  most  young  women,  but  it  struck 
her  that  the  average  German  opinion  was  inconsequent 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  245 

If  Britain  possessed  the  world  why  did  she  want 
to  destroy  Germany?  and  if  she  was  going  to  be 
easily  beaten  why  did  she  engender  this  maniacal 
hate?  How  the  audience  applauded  August!  How 
some  of  them  stared  at  her !  When  he  finished  there 
was  a  tumult  for  a  moment.  Men  and  women  rose 
to  their  feet.  They  sang  Deutschland  iiber  Allcs. 
They  shook  their  fists  in  imprecation.  The  song 
degenerated  into  a  wrangle  and  a  scream.  Some 
began  to  leave  the  hall.  Others  approached  the  plat- 
form. Where  Brenda  sat  with  the  Erdmanns  the 
throng  pressed  closer  and  closer  as  if  it  had  detected 
her  and  meant  mischief.  For  one  sickening  moment 
she  felt  afraid.  She  had  heard  the  story  of  the  girl 
who  was  torn  to  pieces  in  a  music-hall  because  she 
had  sung  her  National  Anthem  on  the  eve  of  war. 
August  had  told  it  with  gusto  and  said  that  she  de- 
served her  fate.  Brenda  did  not  in  the  least  want  to 
share  her  fate,  she  wondered  how  she  could  escape  it. 
She  sat  as  still  as  a  stone  and  her  limbs  felt  like  lead. 
That  man  with  a  red  swollen  nose  and  an  animal 
mouth !  He  had  looked  at  her  all  through  the  lecture 
and  was  coming  close.  If  he  touched  her!  If  others 
clawed  at  her!  Such  things  happened.  How  could 
any  one  bear  the  things  that  were  happening  to-day? 
How  could  men  face  bayonets? 

"Come  with  me,  Brenda,"  said  Siegmund  Abel. 
He  was  a  big  powerfully-made  man,  and  he  had  edged 
his  way  through  the  crowd  until  he  reached  her.  He 
knew  that  her  nationality  was  unmistakable  and  he 
wondered  why  she  had  come.  He  had  not  been  sur- 
prised to  see  hostile  glances  directed  against  her,  and 
while  August  lashed  himself  and  his  hearers  into  a 
frenzy  Siegmund  had  seen  that  when  the  lecture  was 
over  she  must  be  got  away.  Even  educated  well- 
dressed  people  might  lose  their  heads  in  these  times, 
and  the  old  Erdmanns  could  not  have  protected  her. 

"Why  did  you  come?"  he  said,  as  they  walked 


246  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

together  to  August's  house ;  and  Brenda  told  him  how 
little  she  had  wished  to  come  and  how  impossible  it 
had  been  to  stay  at  home. 

"You  should  be  in  England,"  said  Siegmund.  "I 
shall  write  to  Lothar  and  say  so." 

"I  wish  you  would,"  cried  Brenda;  and  then  they 
reached  August's  house  and  were  received  frigidly  by 
Mina,  who  had  been  too  busy  with  supper  to  attend 
the  lecture. 

"But  I  heard  it,"  she  said,  "August  read  it  to  me. 
I  predicted  a  great  success.  What  touches  my  heart 
will  touch  other  hearts,  I  told  him.  We  are  all  one 
against  the  common  foe.  Was  there  much  excitement  ? 
Where  are  the  others?  Why  are  you  and  Brenda 
here  first?" 

"I  brought  Brenda  out  of  it,"  said  Siegmund.  "She 
ought  not  to  have  been  there  at  all." 

"Aber,  Siegmund !  I  cannot  understand  you.  Brenda 
has  married  a  German.  Does  not  a  wife  accept  her 
husband's  nationality?" 

Mina  addressed  her  words  to  Siegmund  and  her 
glance  to  Brenda:  but  neither  of  them  spoke.  Brenda 
still  felt  sick  and  trembling  because  those  moments 
before  Siegmund  Abel  came  up  to  her  had  been  hor- 
rible. She  had  read  of  one  against  a  mob,  but  she  had 
never  even  faintly  imagined  what  the  one  would  feel: 
unwarned  and  seeing  no  sign  of  mercy.  She  wished 
she  had  not  felt  so  frightened  though.  She  had 
shown  neither  strength  nor  courage.  She  had  failed. 


XXII 

MINA  had  prepared  an  extra-special  supper  and 
the  table  was  laid  for  ten  persons.  She  wore 
the  green  silk  tea-gown  and  the  diamond 
brooch  in  which  Brenda  had  first  seen  her,  and  her 
small  weak  face  was  hot  and  red  with  her  exertions. 
She  seldom  entertained  Elsa  and  Siegmund  because 
they  were  "rich  people,"  and  she  could  not  pretend 
to  please  them  with  her  simple  fare.  Brenda  heard 
her  making  apologies  in  this  vein  to  her  brother-in-law 
before  the  others  arrived  and  heard  him  answer  with- 
out diplomacy  that  he  liked  simple  fare.  Then  Mina 
said  in  a  sad  hurt  way  that  she  had  done  her  best 
and  basted  the  hare  with  sour  cream,  as  she  knew  he 
liked  it,  and  that  the  price  of  everything  just  now  was 
hair-raising.  Siegmund,  to  change  the  subject,  said 
the  news  was  splendid  to-day,  but  Mina,  still  hurt, 
said  that  the  wife  of  a  poor  professor  who  did  her  duty 
had  no  time  to  waste  over  books  and  papers.  She  had 
been  in  the  kitchen  and  the  nursery  since  seven  o'clock 
this  morning,  and  August  had  ordered  supper  for 
half-past  eight.  Everything  would  be  spoiled  if  he 
and  the  others  did  not  come  soon. 

Then  they  came ;  the  Erdmanns,  August,  Elsa  and 
three  of  August's  friends,  all  in  a  state  of  wild  ex- 
citement. An  extra  edition  of  some  evening  paper 
had  just  come  out  with  news  of  a  great  victory  over 
the  English.  They  were  cut  to  pieces.  They  were 
finished.  They  were  nowhere  at  all.  The  Germans 
were  practically  in  Paris,  they  had  dropped  proclama- 

247 


248  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

tions  there  and  would  enter  on  Sedan  Day  as  the 
All-Highest  had  promised.  No  one  noticed  Brenda. 
She  sat  in  a  corner  of  the  room  where  there  was  not 
much  light  and  she  listened.  She  said  to  herself  that 
she  would  not  and  could  not  believe  what  these  people 
were  saying.  She  wished  she  could  escape  from  their 
supper  party  and  lock  herself  into  her  own  room  and 
think  about  England.  She  knew  the  English  were  not 
finished.  Was  it  likely?  England!  and  here  was 
Germany,  boasting,  hating,  sure  of  conquest.  If  only 
she  could  get  away  and  be  in  England  again. 

August  was  saying  something  about  wine.  He  was 
explaining  to  Elsa  that  a  poor  professor  could  not  give 
his  guests  French  champagne,  but  that  he  was  going 
to  celebrate  the  occasion  with  a  good  sparkling  Moselle. 
Mina  looked  decidedly  cross  because,  as  she  said,  sup- 
per was  on  the  table  and  the  glasses  required  for  the 
Moselle  were  locked  up  in  a  cupboard.  But  of  course 
a  superman  like  August  does  not  give  in  to  a  woman 
however  cross  she  looks.  He  simply  said:  "Quick, 
wife,  get  out  the  glasses!"  and  bustled  to  the  cellar 
where  he  kept  his  best  wines.  For  he  was  not  such 
a  poor  professor  as  Mina  pretended.  At  any  rate  he 
could  produce  a  few  bottles  of  good  Moselle  on  such 
a  night  as  this.  He  looked  as  if  he  wanted  a  wash 
and  a  brush  when  he  came  back  with  them,  but  Mina 
did  not  seem  to  notice  that.  She  gave  a  little  shriek 
of  dismay  because  he  planted  the  dusty  bottles  on 
the  clean  white  cloth  of  the  supper  table,  rushed  out 
of  the  room  and  returned  with  a  duster.  She  was 
too  late  because  when  August  had  set  them  down  they 
had  left  their  mark:  but  no  one  except  Mina  seemed 
to  mind.  Everybody  sat  down  to  table  in  a  jovial 
mood  and  at  first  ate  hors-d' ceuvre  as  hungrily 
as  if  there  was  nothing  to  follow.  They  drank  a 
still  wine  with  this  course  and  the  next:  and  two 
of  August's  friends  drank  beer.  They  said  they 
preferred  it 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  249 

Brenda  had  not  met  many  professors  yet  and  she 
knew  that  August's  friends  were  not  likely  to  be 
eminent  ones.  Two  of  these  were  of  his  caste  and 
frame  of  mind,  but  they  had  no  chairs.  In  fact  they 
were  not  professors  at  all  but  only  doctors  of  this  and 
that,  miserably  poor,  abominably  dressed,  and  not  over 
clean.  The  third  was  a  fair-haired  pleasant-looking 
man  who  had  a  chair  at  one  of  the  smaller  Universities 
and  was  only  in  Berlin  on  a  visit.  The  supper  was 
given  in  his  honor  because  long  ago  August  and  he 
had  drunk  Briiderschaft  together,  and  though  life  had 
parted  them  they  had  kept  up  a  semblance  of  friendship 
by  letters.  Now  they  met  again  there  was  disillusion- 
ment, for  August  thought  that  Arthur  had  become 
worldly,  and  Arthur  perceived  that  August  had  not 
grown  either  in  light  or  learning.  Some  of  these 
things  Brenda  knew  before  supper  began  and  some 
she  guessed  at  before  it  ended.  She  sat  between 
Siegmund  Abel  and  one  of  the  learned  but  incom- 
pletely washed  ones,  and  in  so  far  as  she  talked  at  all 
it  was  to  Siegmund,  because  her  neighbor  on  the  other 
side  had  discovered  instantly  that  she  was  English, 
and  opened  the  ball  by  observing  that  the  Erdmanns 
must  be  extraordinarily  broad-minded  people  to 
harbor  any  one  of  her  nationality.  It  was  such  a 
difficult  remark  to  answer  that  Brenda  had  looked  at 
him  reflectively  and  then  looked  away.  After  all  what 
did  he  matter?  Just  a  little  this  evening  perhaps, 
but  not  a  feather-weight  if  only  she  could  get  back 
to  England.  Now  the  great  Arthur  was  beginning 
to  talk  about  her  country  and  laying  down  the  law. 
However,  he  was  only  bringing  the  charge  of  bad 
cooking  and  telling  some  rather  amusing  stories  about 
his  adventures  in  search  of  a  meal  in  a  London  suburb 
on  a  Sunday.  Mina,  still  flushed  and  quite  incapable 
of  attending  to  any  conversation,  watched  the  progress 
round  the  table  of  the  hare  cooked  to  perfection  with 
some  cream  and  served  with  salsify  and  little  fried 


250  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

balls  of  potato.  After  the  hare  came  a  hazelnut  tart 
which  was  not  in  the  least  like  any  English  tart. 
Its  chief  components  were  a  rich  light  cake,  some  kind 
of  preserve  and  whipped  cream,  flavored  with  nuts. 
Mina  had  ordered  it  at  a  confectioner's  and  paid  five 
marks  for  it:  and  though  Brenda  thought  her  portion 
delicious  it  sent  her  ideas  along  the  old  track,  trying 
to  discover  which  nation  really  did  things  best,  Eng- 
land or  Germany.  Mina  had  been  up  since  seven 
preparing  for  this  party,  and  yet  when  you  came  to 
think  of  it  her  cook  and  she  together  had  only  cooked 
a  hare  and  two  vegetables.  On  the  other  hand  the 
hazelnut  tart  was  better  than  anything  you  could 
buy  in  England  at  an  ordinary  confectioner's,  the 
bread  was  better  than  London  bread,  and  the  Russian 
salad,  the  chief  attraction  of  the  hors-d'auvre,  had 
been  kostlich.  No  one  called  it  Russian  salad  now 
though.  No  one  would  allow  that  anything  was 
English,  French  or  Russian,  and  Brenda  wondered 
whether  Lqndoners  had  ceased  to  ask  for  German 
sausage.  These  trivial  reflections  were  quite  out  of 
tune  with  the  elated  and  bellicose  mood  of  those  who 
had  most  to  say  to-night.  The  voices  of  August  and 
his  friends  made  themselves  heard  above  the  clatter 
of  dishes  and  Mina's  wearying  invitations  to  this  one 
and  the  other  to  eat  and  drink.  They  talked  of 
nothing  but  the  war;  of  the  huge  indemnities  to  be 
extracted,  of  the  alterations  in  the  map  of  Europe,  and 
of  the  next  war,  which  August  said  would  be  with  the 
United  States.  If  you  could  call  it  a  war  with  a 
nation  that  has  neither  an  army  nor  a  navy.  But  in 
August's  opinion  the  possession  of  the  United  States 
and  Canada  was  necessary  to  the  future  of  Greater 
Germany.  Arthur  said  he  would  rather  seize  the 
whole  of  Africa.  Brenda's  neighbor  asked  what 
India  had  done  to  be  left  out.  The  sparkling  Moselle 
was  bubbling  in  their  glasses  now,  and  after  drinking 
Arthur's  health  they  filled  up  again  and  went  on 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  251 

talking.  They  lighted  cigars,  too,  and  Mina  went  to 
the  sideboard  to  make  coffee.  Brenda's  glass  was 
still  nearly  full  when  August  rose  to  his  feet  and  began 
to  make  a  little  speech,  in  which  there  was  nothing  new 
because  he  had  said  it  all  at  greater  length  in  his 
lecture.  He  had  taken  more  wine  than  usual,  and 
there  was  a  spot  of  red  in  each  sallow  cheek.  His 
eyes  looked  wild  and  his  speech  spluttered  as  he 
enlarged  again  on  the  crimes  of  England  against 
Germany. 

"Down  with  England !"  he  shrieked,  holding  up  his 
brimming  glass.  "Who  drinks  with  me  is  my  friend," 
and  he  glanced  straight  at  Brenda.  "Down  with 
England!" 

Brenda  fixed  her  eyes  steadily  on  her  plate  and  did 
not  move.  She  had  met  August's  glance,  but  had  not 
responded  to  it  in  any  way.  Every  one  else  had  risen 
and  was  clinking  glasses  with  August  in  the  German 
way.  Even  Siegmund  Abel  had  risen,  though  he  had 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  muttered  something  Bren- 
da did  not  hear.  Mina  had  come  away  from  the  side- 
board and  with  a  silly  smile  on  her  face  was  squeaking 
"Down  with  England!"  Little  Mamma  shook  her 
head  solemnly  as  she  drank  the  toast,  Papa  Erdmann 
downed  England  in  a  hoarse  voice  and  emptied  his 
glass  .  .  . 

"Brenda !"  screamed  August.  "Why  are  you  not 
drinking  with  us?  I  demand  that  you  drink  with 
us." 

Brenda  neither  moved  nor  spoke.  She  felt  very 
cold  as  to  her  hands  and  feet  and  very  confused  as  to 
her  mind.  Should  she  continue  to  sit  still  and  allow 
these  apes  to  gibber  at  her,  or  should  she  surprise  them 
by  dashing  to  her  feet  and  drinking  boldly  to  England ! 
Perhaps  it  would  be  rather  theatrical  to  do  that,  and 
at  any  rate  if  she  sat  still  she  was  less  likely  to  break 
down  and  cry. 

"I  demand  that  you  drink  with  us,"  said  August 


252  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

again.  "Are  you  not  the  wife  of  a  German  who  at 
this  very  moment  may  be  lying  on  the  blood-stained 
battlefield  done  to  death  by  your  cowardly  com- 
patriots." 

"Aber,  Brenda!"  mewed  Mina  reproachfully. 

"My  poor  boy!"  moaned  Little  Mamma. 

"Do  not  excite  yourself,  Mamachen,"  said  Elsa;  "I 
implore  you  not  to  excite  yourself.  Lothar  we  know 
is  in  Brussels." 

"I  give  you  another  toast,"  said  Siegmund  Abel, 
"one  that  Brenda  can  drink  with  us.  May  Lothar 
come  safely  back  to  his  family!" 

"Yes,  I  will  drink  that,"  said  Brenda,  getting  up 
and  looking  gratefully  at  Siegmund.  When  she  had 
touched  her  glass  she  tried  to  catch  the  eye  of  Little 
Mamma,  but  Frau  Erdmann  shot  a  baleful  glance  at 
her  daughter-in-law  and  said  in  an  audible  undertone 
to  August — 

"My  poor  boy!  that  I  should  live  to  see  his  wife 
side  with  his  enemies!" 

"I  beg  you  not  to  excite  yourself,  wife,"  said  Herr 
Erdmann  in  his  dictatorial  voice.  "What  is  done 
cannot  be  undone." 

"I  thought  that  Lothar  had  married  his  cousin," 
whispered  the  great  Arthur  to  Elsa.  "I  had  a  card 
announcing  his  engagement  ...  I  don't  remember 
the  lady's  name." 

"It  was  Miiller,"  said  Elsa. 

"Muller!" 

"Yes.    They  are  cousins." 

"But  then  the  lady  is  German." 

"Her  parents  are  .  .  .  but  only  by  blood." 

"Isn't  blood  everything?" 

"It  seems  to  be  nothing  in  these  cases,"  said  Elsa 
snappishly. 

Brenda  could  hear  every  word  of  this  dialogue 
across  the  narrow  dinner-table,  and  she  observed  an 
alteration  in  the  great  Arthur's  manner  that  she  had 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  253 

observed  in  other  Germans  when  she  had  claimed 
blood  kinship  with  them.  Her  value  was  lowered  in 
his  eyes.  He  thought  less  of  her  because  she  was  not 
sheer  English,  and  his  change  of  front  had  nothing  to 
do  with  her  opinions,  but  proceeded  from  the  curious 
contradictory  attitude  of  the  Anglophobe  German  to- 
wards the  English,  an  attitude  finding  its  counterpart 
in  the  compound  of  appreciation  and  bitter  grudge 
felt  by  the  plebeian  for  the  patrician:  a  compound 
that  may  manifest  itself  in  a  lower  nature  forced 
to  recognize  a  higher  one  just  as  often  as  in  the 
class  war  that  depends  on  such  external  benefits  as 
birth  and  property. 

The  rest  of  the  evening  passed  quickly.  The  whole 
party  went  into  August's  book-lined  study  for  half  an 
hour  and  then  dispersed.  Little  Mamma  said  some- 
thing as  she  bid  good-bye  about  next  Thursday,  and 
Brenda  put  her  foot  into  it  by  asking  what  was  going 
to  happen  next  Thursday.  "Aber,  Brenda!"  mewed 
Mina,  and  Brenda  wondered  what  crime  she  had  com- 
mitted now,  and  whether  that  little  fool  Mina  could 
not  hit  on  some  variety  of  remonstrance.  Then  she 
reproached  herself  because  this  time  she  really  had 
committed  a  crime  and  forgotten  that  next  Thurs- 
day would  be  Little  Mamma's  birthday,  when  every 
member  of  the  family  and  many  friends  would  send 
her  flowers  and  other  offerings,  in  return  for  which 
she  would  regale  them  with  chocolate  and  cakes  in 
the  afternoon.  It  was  always  a  great  day  in  the 
Joachimstrasse,  and  last  year  Lothar,  saying  that  he 
detested  family  reunions,  had  paid  his  mother  a  brief 
call  early  in  the  morning  and  avoided  the  house  for 
the  rest  of  the  day.  He  could  always  plead  urgent 
service. 

"It  cannot  be  a  joyous  occasion  this  year,"  moaned 
Little  Mamma.  "I  shall  miss  my  lieber  Junge,  who 
is  always  so  attentive  to  his  old  mother  and  never 
forgets  an  anniversary.  Last  year  he  arrived  quite 


254  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

early  in  the  morning  with  a  magnificent  bouquet  of 
carnations,  my  favorite  flower.  I  reproached  him 
with  his  extravagance,  but  he  replied  that  nothing 
could  be  too  good  for  me.  He  was  always  so  deeply 
attached  to  his  family." 

Brenda,  hearing  all  this,  could  not  help  remembering 
what  had  really  happened  last  year.  Prompted  by 
Elsa,  she  had  reminded  Lothar  of  his  mother's  birth- 
day, and  with  considerable  difficulty  persuaded  him  to 
take  the  carnations  she  herself  had  bought  for  Frau 
Erdmann.  But  this  is  not  a  world  in  which  the  truth 
can  always  be  made  plain,  and  she  went  back  this 
evening  with  two  elderly  people  who  were  less  friendly 
to  her  than  they  had  ever  been  before.  As  the  week 
went  on  this  attitude  became  more  marked  and  Bren- 
da's  consequent  discomfort  more  acute.  Sedan  Day 
came  and  went  with  no  news  of  the  fall  of  Paris ;  but 
the  triumphant  march  of  the  army  to  the  very  gates 
of  Paris  was  watched  with  intense  pride  and  excite- 
ment. When  the  news  came  that  Amiens  was  in 
German  hands  no  one  doubted  that  in  the  west  the 
worst  of  the  struggle  was  over.  From  the  east  the 
news  was  not  so  good,  but  every  one  hoped  that  the 
Russians  could  be  dealt  with  later.  On  the  whole 
the  family  met  in  a  triumphant  mood  at  the  Joachim- 
strasse  on  Thursday.  August  had  just  watched  the 
arrival  of  a  large  number  of  English  prisoners,  and 
was  rubbing  his  hands  with  pleasure  over  their  misera- 
ble appearance.  To  be  sure  they  had  not  had  a  com- 
fortable journey!  He  had  managed  to  get  into 
conversation  with  a  railway  official,  who  took  his  view 
that  these  cattle  should  be  treated  like  cattle  or  worse. 
For  beasts  were  worth  money,  but  English  pig-dogs 
were  better  dead  than  alive.  He  could  not  understand 
why  good  German  food  should  be  wasted  on  them. 
They  had  traveled,  he  was  told,  in  cattle  trucks  that  no 
one  had  troubled  to  clean,  wounded  and  unwounded  in 
a  crowd  together.  They  had  looked  as  hungry  as 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  255 

wolves  and  the  wounded  ones  were  clamoring  for 
water.  Pig-dogs ! 

"Did  you  give  them  water?"  asked  Brenda. 

"I!  Why  should  I?"  and  August  looked  round  at 
the  united  family,  calling  for  a  chorus  to  his  solo ;  and 
inviting  it  to  denounce  the  enemy  in  their  midst. 

The  large  room  had  a  gala  appearance  this  after- 
noon. There  was  a  "birthday"  table  on  which  the 
presents  were  arrayed,  but  so  many  flowers  had  come 
that  these  had  been  placed  wherever  they  looked  well 
in  Little  Mamma's  opinion.  The  presents  were  perhaps 
not  as  costly  as  usual  because  in  war-time  money  was 
scarce  with  most  people;  but  Herr  Erdmann  had 
given  his  wife  a  handsome  set  of  furs,  and  Elsa  had 
brought  her  mother  a  small  fitted  dressing-case  that 
she  said  Frau  Erdmann  would  find  useful  when  she 
went  to  Italy  in  the  spring.  Mina,  the  poor  Professor's 
wife,  only  produced  an  embroidered  cushion,  and  there 
had  been  a  painful  little  scene  because  Frau  Erdmann, 
in  her  honest  German  way,  had  said  that  her  own  child 
ought  to  know  that  those  moldy  art  reds  were  not 
her  taste  at  all.  However,  the  children  had  not  only 
made  her  Kindergarten  straw  photograph  frames,  but 
they  had  stood  on  hassocks  and  been  coaxed  to  declaim 
birthday  poems  composed  by  August  and  charged 
with  family  and  patriotic  sentiment.  It  was  just  as 
the  second  came  to  an  end  that  the  chambermaid 
appeared,  saying  that  a  wooden  case  had  arrived  from 
the  railway  on  which  there  was  something  to  pay. 
Herr  Erdmann  went  out  to  see  about  it  and  returned 
with  a  large  flat  wooden  case  that,  in  a  voice  striving 
vainly  to  be  calm,  he  said  came  from  Brussels. 

"My  Lothar!"  exclaimed  Frau  Erdmann,  clasping 
her  hands.  "He  has  remembered  his  old  mother  on 
her  birthday." 

"Aber,  Mamma !"  cried  Mina,  "could  you  doubt  that 
he  would?  Let  us  hope  that  he  has  not  chosen  the 
wrong  red." 


256  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"It  is  evidently  a  picture,"  said  Elsa. 

The  whole  family  crowded  round  the  case  while 
Herr  Erdmann,  assisted  by  the  chambermaid  and 
advised  by  August,  got  it  open.  Then  some  news- 
papers were  removed  and  then  Herr  Erdmann,  looking 
blankly  at  his  wife,  handed  her  first  a  pink  and  then  a 
tangerine  yellow  silk  petticoat — and  such  petticoats, 
of  a  tube-like  narrowness,  but  yet  elaborately  trimmed 
with  lace  and  frills. 

"The  dear  boy!"  said  Frau  Erdmann.  "How  did 
such  an  idea  come  into  his  head?" 

But  Herr  Erdmann,  like  a  conjurer  performing 
with  a  silk  hat,  was  now  pulling  the  most  amazing 
mixture  of  things  out  of  the  box,  so  that  every  one 
watching  grew  on  edge  with  curiosity  as  to  what 
would  come  next.  Beneath  the  petticoats  there  had 
been  a  layer  of  ladies'  nightgowns  made  of  the  finest 
lawn  and  embroidered:  and  then  numbers  of  packages, 
each  one  wrapped  up  in  some  article  of  lingerie.  There 
were  three  small  clocks,  a  pair  of  Cloisonne  vases 
which  Elsa  said  must  be  valuable,  a  whole  Sevres  tea- 
service,  toilet  articles  of  tortoiseshell  with  a  gold 
monogram  and  coronet,  and  carefully  sealed,  a  tin 
box,  which  when  opened  was  seen  to  be  full  of  trinket 
cases  and  silver  spoons. 

After  the  first  chorus  of  exclamations  and  delight 
some  people  watching  had  turned  rather  silent.  Then 
when  the  picture,  cut  out  of  its  frame  and  covering  the 
bottom  of  the  box,  was  taken  out  every  one  began  to 
chatter  again.  Meanwhile  Brenda  had  made  two  dis- 
coveries that  in  her  innocence  surprised  her.  The 
lingerie  had  not  come  straight  from  any  shop.  It  had 
been  worn,  and  the  monogram  on  it  and  on  the  tortoise- 
shell  brushes  and  boxes  was  not  Little  Mamma's 
monogram.  Moreover,  a  year  of  their  income,  prob- 
ably two  or  three  years  of  their  income,  would  not 
have  paid  for  the  things  Lothar  had  sent. 

"War  is  war!"  announced  August. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  257 

"Here  is  a  letter,"  said  Little  Mamma,  who  had 
been  rummaging  in  the  box  of  spoons  and  trinkets. 
"He  says  I  am  to  keep  what  I  please  and  give  the 
rest  to  Elsa  and  Mina.  He  does  not  mention  Brenda, 
but  he  adds  that  he  has  looked  after  himself  and  sent 
things  to  his  own  address.  How  generous  he  is  to 
give  us  so  much.  The  dear  boy!" 

"I  have  always  been  short  of  spoons,"  bleated  Mina. 


XXIII 

BRENDA  had  often  passed  through  Brussels 
station,  and  once  she  had  stayed  a  night  in  the 
town  and  just  had  time  before  going  on  to  walk 
up  and  down  the  rue  Royale,  look  at  the  shops  and 
buy  some  gloves  and  chocolate.  So  she  remembered 
Brussels  chiefly  by  its  main  street  of  shops,  by  its 
tall  white  houses  with  carefully  curtained  windows 
and  by  a  comfortable  hotel.  But  she  remembered  the 
station  itself  best  because  she  had  often  waited  an 
hour  or  two  there,  and  when  she  saw  it  swarming  with 
German  soldiers,  she  had  some  insight  for  the  first  time 
into  what  the  war  must  mean  to  Belgium.  Lothar 
met  her,  and  the  first  thing  she  noticed  about  him  was 
a  half-healed  scar  on  his  cheek,  a  scar  oddly  barred 
as  if  a  weapon  like  Britannia's  trident  had  made  it. 
She  asked  no  questions,  for  he  did  not  meet  her  with 
any  show  of  affection,  and  he  was  evidently  quite  well. 
He  was  also  evidently  out  of  humor.  She  knew  very 
little  of  what  he  had  been  doing  since  he  left  Berlin, 
and  she  had  not  had  a  single  letter  from  him  until 
two  days  ago,  when  she  had  received  a  brief  note  tell- 
ing her  to  come  to  Brussels  at  once  and  bring  clothes 
for  a  long  stay.  She  was  glad  to  leave  Berlin,  and 
inasmuch  as  Brussels  was  on  the  way  to  England  she 
was  glad  to  go  there.  But  she  wondered  why  Lothar 
had  written,  until  she  showed  his  letter  to  the  Erd- 
manns  who  then  informed  her  that  it  was  at  their 
instigation.  They  had  decided  that  her  presence  had 
a  deleterious  effect  on  Little  Mamma's  nerves,  and 

258 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  259 

that  as  their  son  had  unhappily  married  one  of  his 
country's  enemies  he  must  be  responsible  for  her  con- 
duct in  war-time. 

"August  says  it  is  simply  dangerous,"  added  Little 
Mamma.  "If  the  Russians  came,  which  God  forbid, 
you  might  assist  them." 

"If  I  even  suspected  such  a  thing  it  would  be  my 
duty  to  shoot  you  dead,"  said  Herr  Erdmann. 

"We  have  never  had  a  scandal  in  the  family,"  wailed 
Little  Mamma.  "I  shouldn't  like  it  at  all." 

"I  shouldn't  like  it  either,"  said  Brenda,  and  packed 
her  trunks.  She  had  to  go  to  her  own  flat  for  some 
of  the  winter  clothes  she  wanted,  and  she  found  that 
the  room  in  which  she  had  said  good-bye  to  Andrew 
Lovel  revived  her  memories  of  that  parting  too  acutely 
for  her  peace  of  mind.  She  wondered  what  he  was 
doing,  whether  he  had  gone  back  to  New  Zealand  or 
whether  he  had  joined  the  new  army,  at  which  the 
Germans  poked  all  their  heaviest  and  most  malevolent 
fun.  She  wondered  whether  they  would  ever  meet 
again,  and  whether  she  would  ever  live  in  this  flat 
with  Lothar  again.  She  still  supposed  the  war  would 
be  over  in  a  few  weeks'  time,  and  she  knew  nothing 
about  the  real  issues  of  the  Battle  of  the  Marne.  She 
saw  that  Siegmund  Abel  took  the  situation  seriously, 
but  August  persuaded  the  rest  of  the  family  that 
Siegmund  was  old-fashioned.  He  still  believed  in 
Bismarck,  who  had  feared  a  coalition  and  had  had  no 
colonial  policy.  August  knew  that  the  nations  opposed 
to  them  were  all  degenerates,  and  that  Germany  must 
spread  herself  in  Asia  and  Africa  or  perish.  Brenda 
did  not  even  attempt  to  say  good-bye  to  August. 
Whatever  terrors  Brussels  held  it  would  not  hold  him, 
and  she  thought  that  in  leaving  him  behind  she  left 
all  she  detested  most  in  modern  Germany. 

But  as  she  drove  out  of  the  station  with  Lothar 
she  saw  Germany  in  Brussels  everywhere  and  Germany 
beside  her,  domineering  and  truculent.  The  driver 


26o  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

took  a  wrong  turn  and  tried  to  explain  that  he  had 
not  understood  what  Lothar  said:  and  Lothar  fell 
upon  him  as  if  he  had  been  an  offending  dog,  abusing 
him  in  guttural  French  so  that  Brenda  wondered  the 
man  did  not  stop  his  cab  and  refuse  to  take  them  a 
yard  farther. 

"Are  you  staying  at  an  hotel?"  she  asked  when  they 
drove  on. 

"No.     I  am  sharing  a  flat  with  the  Prasslers." 

"With  the  Prasslers?" 

"Yes.     Have  you  any  objection?" 

"If  I  had  known  it  I  would  not  have  come,"  said 
Brenda. 

"What  would  you  have  done?  Gone  to  an  intern- 
ment camp?  My  family  would  not  be  responsible  for 
you  any  longer." 

Brenda  could  say  nothing  more  just  then  because 
the  cab  stopped  at  one  of  the  tall  white  houses  in  a 
residential  street  and  Lothar  got  out.  He  gave  orders 
about  the  luggage  and  then,  looking  as  black  as  thun- 
der, he  stalked  upstairs,  leaving  his  wife  to  carry  her 
dressing-case  and  follow  him.  By  the  time  she  reached 
the  second  floor  the  door  had  been  opened  and  a  maid- 
servant stood  there  to  receive  her.  So  did  Lothar, 
and  without  speaking  he  ushered  her  into  a  room  at 
which  five  or  six  officers  sat  at  supper  with  Frau 
Prassler.  Brenda  had  been  traveling  all  day  and 
wished  she  could  back  out  again  before  these  roysterers 
saw  her.  This  word  for  them  came  into  her  mind  as 
she  went  slowly  forward,  receiving  swift  confused 
impressions  of  light,  wine,  loud  laughter,  dishes  heaped 
with  fruit,  Frau  Prassler  sheathed  in  red,  her  hair 
done  in  a  coil  on  each  ear,  her  husband  flushed  with 
wine  already,  and  five  men  clattering  to  their  feet 
to  receive  the  newcomer. 

"Ah!  our  little  Englishwoman!"  said  Frau  Prassler, 
and  she  too  got  up  rather  slowly  and  lazily  as  if  the 
effort  was  hardly  worth  while.  "We  have  not  waited 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  261 

you  see.  Trains  are  often  unptmctual  still.  You 
will  sit  down  with  us  as  you  are,  will  you  not?  or 
would  that  offend  your  English  ideas?" 

Brenda  was  not  a  saint  by  any  means.  She  had 
human  infirmities  of  temper  and  an  eye  for  the  feline 
in  her  own  sex.  Her  dislike  of  the  beautiful  Jutta 
was  active  and  healthy,  and  the  idea  of  being  under 
the  same  roof  with  her  insufferable.  She  said  some- 
thing about  washing  off  the  dust  after  her  long  jour- 
ney, and,  turning  to  Lothar,  told  him  that  she  wished 
to  see  her  room. 

"Why  not  sit  down  as  Frau  Prassler  suggests?" 
began  Lothar;  but  his  wife  for  once  paid  no  attention 
to  him.  She  went  out  of  the  room  and  he  followed  her. 

"This  is  your  room,"  he  said,  opening  the  door. 
"You  are  not  going  to  make  a  great  toilet,  I  suppose. 
Every  one  knows  that  you  have  been  traveling." 

Brenda  did  not  make  what  Lothar  called  a  great 
toilet,  but  when  she  went  into  the  dining-room  again 
she  looked  as  fresh  as  paint  and  as  young  as  spring. 
Major  Prassler  told  her  so  in  set  phrases,  and  all  the 
other  men  except  Lothar  paid  her  attention.  They 
were  none  of  them  drunk,  but  they  were  just  the  other 
side  of  sober,  inclined  to  talk  a  great  deal,  rather  red 
in  the  face  and  excitable.  One  of  them  asked  her 
what  people  were  saying  in  Berlin?  Were  they  as 
pleased  as  they  ought  to  be  by  the  conquest  of  Belgium 
or  were  they  too  stupid  and  ignorant  to  understand 
what  had  been  done? 

"Have  you  conquered  all  Belgium?"  said  Brenda. 
"What  about  Antwerp?" 

"We  shall  have  Antwerp." 

"And  Paris?" 

"Paris  certainly.     Do  you  doubt  it?" 

"And  Calais?" 

"Calais  is  necessary  to  us  for  our  operations  against 
England.  But  you  have  not  answered  my  questions 
about  Berlin?" 


262  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"It  isn't  easy  to  answer  for  a  whole  city,"  said 
Brenda.  "I  saw  very  few  people  except  one  night  at 
a  lecture." 

"Whose  lecture?"  said  Lothar,  joining  in.  "What 
was  it  about?" 

"It  was  about  the  crimes  of  England,"  said  Brenda. 
"August  gave  it.  He  explained  that  England  had 
engineered  the  war  in  order  to  destroy  the  commercial 
and  intellectual  supremacy  of  Germany.  He  had  a 
great  success." 

"He  deserved  it  since  he  told  the  truth,"  said  Frau 
Prassler. 

Brenda  was  watching  a  pear  that  Major  Prassler 
was  peeling  for  her.  She  would  much  rather  have 
peeled  it  herself,  but  that  his  sense  of  chivalry  would 
not  allow,  he  said.  Every  now  and  then  he  touched 
the  pear,  and  his  hands,  though  not  exactly  dirty,  were 
not  exactly  clean  either.  She  had  spoken  of  August's 
lecture  in  a  level  voice  without  anger  or  derision; 
and  that  seemed  to  anger  her  audience. 

"You  do  not  agree  with  the  lecturer,"  said  one 
man  who  was  older  than  the  others:  a  man  with  a 
heavy  chin  and  a  low  brutal  forehead. 

"Are  you  going  to  ask  a  young  woman  her  opinion 
of  war  and  politics?"  cried  Lothar  with  a  loud  jeering 
laugh.  "How  can  it  matter  what  women  think,  espe- 
cially Englishwomen?  They  will  dance  to  our  tune 
when  we  get  over  there,  as  the  Belgians  have 
done." 

"Frightful,"  said  Frau  Prassler  with  an  affected 
little  shudder.  "War  is  frightful!" 

Brenda  did  not  notice  what  she  said  because  when 
Lothar  had  spoken  the  byplay  of  two  young  lieuten- 
ants sitting  opposite  her  attracted  attention.  They  had 
both  been  drinking  a  good  deal,  and  had  put  off  the 
reserve  of  manner  usual  amongst  civilized  men  when 
women  are  present.  They  sprawled  on  their  chairs, 
they  picked  their  teeth,  and  at  the  mention  of  Belgian 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  263 

women  they  leered  at  each  other  like  satyrs.  Then 
one  of  them  with  a  hiccup  and  a  laugh  went  through  a 
little  pantomime  that  wrote  itself  on  Brenda's  under- 
standing corrosively.  He  looked  across  the  table  at 
Lothar,  he  winked  at  his  friend,  and  with  three  fingers 
stretched  like  the  prongs  of  Britannia's  trident  he 
clawed  at  his  face.  Then  a  maid  came  in  with  coffee, 
and  Brenda  looked  at  her  with  interest  because  she 
was  a  Belgian  woman.  But  she  met  the  girl's  eyes 
and  looked  away  again.  You  do  not  stare  into  the 
living  eyes  of  tragedy  incarnate. 

The  evening  was  finished  in  a  salon  that  had  obvi- 
ously been  stripped  of  its  pictures,  smaller  furniture 
and  knickknacks.  Even  the  curtains  were  gone,  al- 
though the  upholstered  canopies  showed  that  they  must 
have  been  of  a  heavy  pale-blue  silk  brocade.  There 
was  a  grand  piano  in  the  room  on  which  one  of  the 
lieutenants  began  to  play  melodies  from  "The  Merry 
Widow,"  and  there  was  a  large  pouf  of  brocade 
cushions  on  which  several  of  the  other  officers  subsided. 
As  they  smoked  they  shook  off  their  cigar  ash  on  the 
cushions.  Frau  Prassler  sat  in  an  easy-chair  that  sug- 
gested a  throne  because  it  occupied  a  central  position 
and  had  smaller  chairs  grouped  near  it.  Lothar  and 
the  older  man,  who  was  an  Oberst,  both  sat  at  her  feet, 
and  engaged  with  her  and  the  men  on  the  pouf  in  a 
general  conversation.  The  Oberst  got  very  heated  as 
he  talked,  and  presently  he  took  a  penknife  from  his 
pocket,  opened  it  and  emphasized  what  he  was  saying 
by  slashing  at  the  brocaded  arm  of  an  empty  chair 
close  by.  When  he  began  to  do  this  Frau  Prassler 
drew  it  out  of  his  reach,  and  said  it  was  going  with 
other  things  to  Berlin  when  she  had  finished  with  the 
flat.  The  Oberst  apologized,  and  said  that  he  thought 
she  had  collected  all  she  wanted,  and  that  he  consid- 
ered it  his  duty  to  destroy  enemy  property  as  com- 
pletely as  possible.  Brussels  was  now  a  German  city, 
but  he  supposed  that  after  the  war  some  of  the 


264  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Belgian  beasts  would  be  allowed  to  come  back,  and 
then  the  less  they  found  the  better.  Brenda  sat  a  little 
way  off,  listening  to  the  music,  hearing  what  was  said, 
watching  the  conquerors.  She  felt  ill  at  ease  amongst 
them  and  in  a  sense  afraid.  They  had  big  coarse 
bodies,  and  loud  guttural  voices ;  they  were  ruthless  and 
greedy;  they  were  roystering  and  unashamed.  Lothar 
for  instance  had  both  hardened  and  deteriorated.  Per- 
haps as  a  soldier  active  service  had  exhibited  his 
efficiency,  but  it  had  certainly  added  to  his  arrogance, 
and  swept  away  ordinary  restraints.  There  was 
something  about  him  and  about  the  other  officers  that 
she  could  only  think  of  as  something  unchained.  They 
had  bloodshot  eyes  and  reckless  loud  manners.  In 
spite  of  the  iron  discipline  that  fetters  them  they  were 
in  a  fever  with  memories  of  bloodshed  about  which 
she  dared  not  think.  The  little  lieutenant  had  left 
off  strumming  now.  What  a  silly  vacant  face  he 
had,  what  a  fatuous  smile!  and  how  often  she  had 
met  his  like  in  Berlin,  lions  amongst  the  ladies.  He 
was  certainly  the  worse  for  liquor,  and  as  he  stum- 
bled across  the  room  towards  the  open  fireplace  Frau 
Prassler's  cold  eyes  followed  him  derisively,  and  she 
said  in  a  low  voice  to  Lothar  that  the  little  man  had 
to  leave  for  the  front  to-night  and  evidently  did  not 
like  the  idea.  As  she  spoke  a  crash  of  broken  glass 
startled  every  one  in  the  room  and  sent  the  older  men 
to  their  feet  in  a  fury.  The  little  lieutenant  had 
seized  a  stool  and,  before  any  one  could  stop  him,  had 
smashed  the  legs  of  it  into  the  large  mirror  over  the 
fireplace. 

"Deutschland  iiber  Alles,"  he  screamed,  and  with  a 
foolish  cackle  sank  upon  the  nearest  chair.  The 
Oberst  spoke  to  him  sternly.  Such  things  were  not 
done  in  the  presence  of  German  ladies,  he  said. 

"She  isn't  German,"  said  the  little  hero,  pointing 
a  finger  at  Brenda.  "She's  English.  I'll  ask  her  for 
a  kiss!" 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  265 

Brenda  did  not  stop  to  see  how  the  older  men  dealt 
with  him.  She  fled  to  her  own  room  and  locked  the 
door.  Presently  she  heard  prolonged  and  noisy  de- 
partures. Then  the  blessed  peace  of  night  came  and 
she  fell  asleep,  wondering  whether  after  all  Brussels 
in  war-time  was  going  to  be  any  improvement  on 
Berlin.  Next  day  when  she  was  nearly  dressed  Lothar 
came  in  to  her  and  explained  that  she  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  housekeeping.  They  were  to 
be  the  paying  guests  of  the  Prasslers. 

"It  is  not  an  arrangement  that  I  shall  like,"  said 
Brenda  plainly.  "I  am  surprised  that  you  have  made 
it" 

"Be  surprised  then.  Do  you  suppose  that  I  mean 
to  study  your  likes  and  dislikes?  If  you  are  not 
satisfied  with  what  I  arrange  you  can  try  an  intern- 
ment camp.  I'm  in  no  mood  for  argument.  You  are 
a  visible  danger  to  me.  You  are  a  hindrance  to  my 
career.  I  would  give  a  thousand  pounds  if  I  had 
never  married  you." 

Brenda  looked  at  Lothar  and  then  turned  her  eyes 
away  because  the  morning  light  fell  with  cruel  ex- 
posure on  those  barred  lines  scarring  his  face.  They 
were  not  healed  yet  and  she  wondered  if  they  were 
painful,  but  she  could  not  ask  him  about  them. 
Besides,  her  thoughts  were  groping  for  an  answer  to 
what  he  had  just  said  and  found  none. 

"I  should  be  less  visible  if  I  were  in  England,"  she 
suggested  after  a  prolonged  silence. 

"How  do  you  propose  to  get  there?" 

"I  am  a  British  subject." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind.  You  are  the  wife  of  a 
German  officer.  If  they  caught  you  in  England,  they'd 
shoot  you  for  a  spy." 

"I'd  risk  that,"  said  Brenda. 

"You  don't  believe  it?" 

"We  don't  shoot  women  and  children  in  Eng- 
land." 


266  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"How  do  you  know  what  the  pig-dogs  do  in  war- 
time?" 

"I  know  the  pig-dogs,"  said  Brenda. 

Lothar  hammered  on  the  nearest  table  with  his  fist 
and  said  he  would  not  be  ridiculed  by  any  woman, 
least  of  all  by  his  wife,  and  that  if  she  were  going  to 
behave  in  this  way  she  should  return  to  Berlin  by  the 
next  train.  He  then  explained  ponderously  that  he 
might  speak  of  the  English  as  pig-dogs  because  he 
believed  they  were  pig-dogs;  but  she  might  not  be- 
cause she  did  it  in  derision  of  him. 

"I  see  your  point  of  view,"  said  Brenda;  but  that 
morning  whatever  she  said  seemed  to  irritate  him,  and 
she  was  glad  when  he  had  to  leave  her  to  attend  to  his 
work.  She  had  breakfast  by  herself  in  the  dining- 
room,  then  she  unpacked  one  of  her  trunks  and  then, 
seeing  no  reason  against  it,  she  went  out  for  a  walk. 
It  was  a  hot  glorious  September  day,  and  she  wore  a 
white  gown  and  a  plain  straw  hat,  and  she  said  to 
herself,  as  she  pinned  on  her  hat  before  a  glass,  that 
every  one  must  see  that  she  was  an  English  pig-dog. 
She  decided  on  that  account  that  she  would  keep  near 
home.  However,  as  chance  would  have  it,  she  did 
not  even  get  to  the  end  of  the  long  deserted  street 
into  which  she  emerged.  She  had  hardly  walked  half- 
way down  it  when  a  seedy-looking  man,  who  must 
have  been  hiding  under  one  of  the  archways  into 
the  old  courtyards,  walked  beside  her,  and  in  a  hoarse 
insinuating  voice  said — 

"Madame  is  English!" 

Brenda  walked  on,  trying  to  take  no  notice,  but  the 
man  kept  close  to  her  and  in  a  whisper  that  quavered 
with  fright  said — 

"What  would  Madame  give  for  a  number  of  'The 
Times'  containing  a  full  description  of  the  destruction 
of  Louvain?" 

"How  much  do  you  want?"  said  Brenda,  stopping 
short. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  267 

"I  want  twenty  francs,"  said  the  man. 

"Twenty  francs  for  a  copy  of  'The  Times'?" 

"I  know  some  one  who  would  give  me  fifty,  but  he 
is  suspected.  I  fear  to  go  near  him." 

"What  do  you  fear?"  said  Brenda,  and  looking  at 
the  man  again,  she  decided  that  he  was  pitiable  and 
not  in  any  sense  dangerous.  What  did  he  fear  ?  What 
did  he  know?  What  would  she  find  in  that  copy  of 
"The  Times"  when  she  had  bought  it?  What  horror 
lay  behind  the  hopeless  sorrow  in  the  eyes  of  the 
little  Belgian  maid?  That  pantomime  she  had  sur- 
prised at  table  yesterday!  That  wound  on  Lothar's 
cheek!  and  his  bloodshot  eyes!  "What  do  you  fear?" 
she  said  again,  and  the  man,  seeing  that  she  was 
English,  unloosed  his  tongue. 

In  the  shadow  of  an  old  archway,  secure  from 
eavesdroppers,  sheltered  from  the  midday  sun,  Brenda 
stayed  for  nearly  half  an  hour,  hearing  from  Belgian 
lips  of  the  deeds  done  in  Belgium.  The  man  convinced 
her  in  spite  of  his  seedy  clothes  and  his  extortions.  He 
came  from  Ardenne,  where  they  shot  down  old  men 
with  machine  guns,  burnt  young  men  alive,  bayoneted 
women  with  child,  dismembered  young  girls  and 
children  ...  he  was  a  common  man,  plain  of  speech, 
and  he  did  not  spare  Brenda  when  she  turned  white 
and  sick.  His  common  insensitive  mind  thought  that 
what  his  countryfolk  had  borne  in  the  flesh  she  could 
hear  of  and  swear  to  avenge.  She  fled  from  him  when 
she  could  endure  it  no  longer,  and  ran  upstairs,  "The 
Times"  in  her  hand.  Luckily  Siegmund  Abel  had 
seen  that  she  brought  some  Belgian  money  with  hef 
and  she  had  been  able  to  buy  the  paper.  She  had  no 
latchkey,  so  she  rang,  and  the  little  Belgian  maid 
opened  the  door.  Brenda  looked  at  her. 

"Madame  is  ill!"  said  the  little  maid,  lifting  her 
miserable  eyes  to  the  English  lady's  deathlike  face. 
Brenda  drew  the  girl  with  her  into  her  room  and  shut 
the  door. 


268  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"Where  do  you  come  from?"  she  asked  her. 

"Madame,  my  home  was  at  Haecht." 

"What  has  happened  there?" 

The  girl  told  her,  without  tears.  Brenda  saw  that 
she  was  beyond  tears.  She  told  the  same  story  as 
the  shabby  hawker  in  the  street  had  told;  a  story  of 
hellish  cruelty  and  lust.  The  whole  family  had  per- 
ished in  that  orgy;  her  parents,  a  married  sister  and 
three  younger  children.  The  youngest  of  all,  a  boy 
of  three,  had  been  found  crucified  to  the  door  of  the 
barn.  The  parents  had  been  burned  alive  in  their 
house.  The  married  sister  who  had  been  with 
child.  .  .  . 

Brenda  put  out  her  hands  as  if  she  could  bear  no 
more,  and  then  before  she  could  stop  the  girl  her 
thought  changed.  She  took  the  crazed  creature  into 
her  arms  and  tried  to  comfort  her,  while  at  the  back 
of  her  own  mind  the  livid  scar  on  Lothar's  face 
pictured  itself,  ominous  and  betraying. 


XXIV 

BRENDA  found  that  the  copy  of  "The  Times" 
she  had  bought  did  not  contain  the  promised 
accounts  of  the  destruction  of  Louvain,  but  a 
column  called  "The  Infamy  of  Louvain,"  describing 
the  treatment  of  civilians  sent  as  prisoners  to  Ger- 
many. She  knew  later  that  English  people,  reading 
this  and  similar  descriptions,  hardly  believed  them; 
but  she  believed  because  she  could  see  the  type  of 
German  official,  stupid  and  enraged,  who  could  order 
and  carry  out  these  cruelties.  Nothing  she  had  heard 
to-day  surprised  her  as  much  as  it  would  have  sur- 
prised her  a  year  ago  when  her  conception  of  Germany 
was  made  up  of  poetry  and  tradition.  When  August 
had  gloated  over  the  ill-treatment  of  English  prison- 
ers the  women  of  the  family  had  listened  callously. 
When  some  Frankfurt  ladies,  showing  a  spark  of 
human  feeling,  had  given  French  wounded  coffee  and 
cigars  a  Berlin  paper  had  published  a  coarse  scurrilous 
poem  about  them,  saying  that  they  ought  to  be  horse- 
whipped. It  is  impossible  to  tell  you  completely  how 
Brenda's  ideas  of  Germany  had  changed  since  her 
marriage,  because  it  had  been  a  gradual  process, 
culminating  in  the  spectacle  of  Germany  at  war,  its 
passions  unloosed,  its  brutalities  allowed  full  play. 
What  shocked  her  most  was  that  the  better  part  of  the 
nation  made  no  protest.  It  was  either  servile  or 
blind. 

Her  own  position  became  more  and  more  perplex- 
ing.   Lothar  did  not  want  her  here  and  his  family  dicj 

269 


270  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

not  want  her  in  Berlin.  Yet,  in  her  opinion,  her  place 
was  here  with  her  husband,  since  he  had  refused  to 
let  her  go  to  England.  At  the  same  time  a  husband 
who  is  publicly  indifferent  and  unfaithful  is  an 
impossible  companion.  Even  Brenda  with  her  rigid, 
unthought-out  ideas  of  marriage  recognized  that. 
When  she  had  read  "The  Times"  she  sat  in  her  own 
room  for  some  time  and  tried  to  see  her  way  more 
clearly.  She  sat  there  safe  and  sound,  the  sun  shining 
in  upon  a  pleasant,  well-furnished  room ;  and  that  was 
part  of  the  great  tragedy  that  encompassed  her,  but 
had  not  rent  her  yet.  She  occupied  the  room  at  the 
expense  of  some  innocent  victims  driven  out  of  it. 
Through  the  open  window  came  the  sound  of  martial 
music  and  of  marching  troops,  going  forth  perhaps 
to  burn  and  pillage  and  murder.  She  had  grown  to 
womanhood  in  a  quiet,  happy  home,  reading  here  and 
there  of  bloody  deeds  but  never  expecting  to  be  near 
them.  Now  whole  nations  were  near  them,  the 
oppressors  and  the  oppressed  both  suffering.  For 
she  had  seen  the  Berlin  hospitals  full  of  wounded  men 
and  the  Berlin  streets  crowded  with  miserable- 
looking  refugees  from  East  Prussia.  The  Russians 
had  taken  Lemberg,  she  read  in  "The  Times,"  but 
the  English  were  in  retreat,  fighting  like  lions  against 
fearful  odds.  How  can  men  die  better?  And  in  the 
Bight  of  Heligoland  there  had  been  a  naval  victory. 
She  wondered  in  what  way  the  German  papers  and 
August  would  turn  it  into  an  English  defeat;  and 
she  hoped  that  however  the  tide  of  battle  rolled  her 
country  would  never  gloss  over  a  defeat  or  exag- 
gerate a  victory.  That  would  be  unworthy,  and  in 
this  hour  of  peril  and  of  trial  England  must  rise  to  her 
own  greatness.  How  Brenda  longed  to  be  there,  to 
hear  the  English  tongue  again,  to  see  what  the  English 
were  doing,  to  find  some  little  corner  where  even  she 
could  work  and  help ! 

A  knock  at  the  door!  and  without  waiting  for  a 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  271 

"Come  in,"  the  beautiful  Jutta  walked  into  the  room, 
as  usual  the  glass  of  fashion,  in  a  gown  of  shot 
taffetas,  a  close  hat  with  a  prancing  osprey,  light 
gloves  and  an  en  tout  cas  with  a  jade  handle.  She  had 
got  herself  up  like  a  Parisian  fashion  plate,  and  yet 
no  one  could  take  her  for  anything  but  a  German.  She 
had  the  German  mouth  and  smile,  thought  Brenda, 
unmistakable  and  indescribable;  and  she  had  the  Ger- 
man way  of  spoiling  her  turnout  by  something  un- 
suitable and  incongruous.  Why  with  a  green  and 
purple  taffetas  did  she  wear  brogued  shoes  of  a 
screaming  mustard  yellow?  It  was  impossible  to 
associate  sorrow  or  tragedy  with  the  beautiful  Jutta. 
She  stood  for  success:  hard,  selfish  success  at  any 
cost  to  others.  Perhaps  after  all  she  was  a  type  of 
the  Germany  that  had  turned  Europe  into  a  shambles 
to  gain  its  own  ends.  She  bid  Brenda  good  morning 
with  her  eyes  on  the  English  newspaper,  she  said  that 
she  was  going  out  to  lunch,  and  she  seemed  to  take 
for  granted  that  Brenda  would  stay  at  home. 

"Will  Lothar  be  in  to  lunch?"  said  Brenda. 

"I  have  not  ordered  it  for  him.  May  I  ask  where 
you  found  that  copy  of  'The  Times'?" 

"I  bought  it  in  the  street." 

"You  have  been  out  ...  by  yourself?" 

"Why  not?" 

Frau  Prassler  gave  a  little  shrug  of  the  shoulders, 
as  if  it  was  not  her  business,  and  with  a  word  of 
apology  for  hurrying  away  left  the  room.  When 
Brenda  went  into  lunch  she  was  surprised  to  find  Ma- 
jor Prassler  at  table,  eating  heartily  but  in  a  state  of 
anger  and  excitement  that  was  embarrassing. 

"Where  is  my  wife?"  he  said.  "With  your  husband 
as  usual,  I  suppose?" 

Brenda  hardly  knew  whether  to  laugh  or  cry.  The 
big  red-faced  man  looked  so  much  annoyed  that  she 
felt  sorry  for  him ;  and  she  felt  sorry  for  herself,  too ; 
but  she  did  not  know  what  she  could  say  to  pacify 


272  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

him.  However,  he  spoke  again  and  changed  the 
subject. 

"There  is  bad  news,"  he  said.  "I  am  off  to-night. 
I  want  Jutta  to  go  back  to  Berlin.  She  ought  never 
to  have  come.  Who  wants  women  about  in  a  war 
area?  They  are  simply  a  nuisance.  You  had  better 
go  back  with  her." 

"What  is  the  news?"  said  Brenda,  on  tiptoe  to 
hear;  for  anything  he  called  bad  news  would  rejoice 
her,  while  his  good  news  would  cast  her  down.  Per- 
haps this  occurred  to  him,  for  he  glanced  at  her  sourly 
and  only  said  that  a  great  battle  was  raging  on  the 
Aisne.  The  issue  was  still  uncertain. 

"Will  Lothar  go  to-night?"  asked  Brenda. 

"Lothar!  Not  that  I  know  of.  He  has  a  different 
job  now.  Didn't  you  know?" 

"I  have  never  known  much  about  Lothar's  work," 
said  Brenda. 

The  Major  grunted  and  gobbled,  but  said  nothing 
articulate.  Brenda  wondered  what  was  happening  at 
the  front  and  how  she  could  get  any  trustworthy  news. 
She  fell  too  restless  and  anxious  to  stay  at  home. 
If  she  went  out  she  could  watch  people's  faces,  hear 
their  talk  and  buy  more  papers.  Why  should  she 
not  go  out,  since  she  looked  like  a  pig-dog?  The 
Belgians  would  feel  friendly  to  her,  and  she  sup- 
posed that  even  the  Bodies  would  not  murder  her 
in  the  streets  of  Brussels,  unless  they  had  orders  to 
destroy  and  slay  as  they  had  done  in  Louvain.  She 
must  risk  that. 

There  were  a  great  many*  soldiers  about  certainly, 
and  some  of  them  looked  like  the  Major,  excited  and 
perturbed.  She  thought  that  some  of  the  Belgians 
looked  excited,  too,  but  she  could  not  feel  sure.  They 
were  not  standing  about  in  groups  or  talking  to  each 
other,  and  many  of  them  looked  dejected  and  pre- 
occupied. The  papers  she  bought  told  her  of  German 
victories  and  the  imminent  fall  of  Paris.  She  found 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  273 

herself  close  to  a  public  park  before  long,  and  sat 
down  in  a  shady  seat  to  read.  She  did  not  know 
the  name  of  the  park ;  she  had  not  a  friend  in  Brussels, 
for  she  could  not  count  Lothar  a  friend.  She  won- 
dered whether  English  people  were  allowed  to  leave 
the  city  and  whether  she  could  go  with  them.  She 
wondered  whether  the  Allies  were  near  and  would 
soon  retake  Brussels?  Major  Prassler  had  certainly 
been  in  a  state  of  intense  excitement,  and  it  was  about 
the  war  news.  She  did  not  think  he  minded  much 
about  his  wife.  There  they  were,  Lothar  and  the 
beautiful  Jutta,  promenading  towards  her,  not  exactly 
hand-in-hand  but  openly  devoted  and  adoring.  Brenda 
knew  how  Lothar  looked  when  he  was  in  love,  and 
that  long  glance  of  covetous  appreciation.  Should 
she  sit  still  or  run  away?  Had  they  seen  her? 

If  they  had  they  showed  no  sign  of  it  but  walked 
slowly  past  her,  absorbed  in  each  other.  Brenda, 
feeling  bewildered  and  dejected,  made  her  way  slowly 
back  to  the  flat,  the  loneliest  creature  surely  in  the 
city.  What  would  happen  next  in  this  new  cataclys- 
mic world,  she  wondered.  Who  would  go,  who  stay, 
who  live,  who  die?  Nothing  seemed  certain  except 
that  her  marriage  had  become  a  farce  and  that  her 
personal  sorrows  were  of  small  account  in  the  general 
welter  of  blood  and  lust  quite  close  to  her — as  close  as 
those  scars  on  her  husband's  inflamed  face.  How 
could  the  beautiful  Jutta  see  them  and  laugh  into  his 
eyes  as  she  had  done  this  afternoon?  In  what  struggle 
had  they  been  inflicted  and  what  penalty  had  been 
paid  ?  Brenda  knew  that  Lothar  had  been  in  Louvain, 
and  in  villages  on  the  way  to  Louvain.  What  were 
his  memories  when  his  eyes  met  Jutta's  with  that 
warmth  in  them?  and  what  remained  of  a  marriage 
as  miserably  dissolved  as  his  in  a  world  going  under 
by  flame  and  sword? 

Brenda  tried  to  read  when  she  got  back  to  the  flat, 
but  found  that  she  could  not.  Before  long  Major 


274  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Prassler  returned  in  a  hurry  of  preparation  for  his 
departure;  and  then  his  wife  and  Lothar  came,  too, 
complacent  and  content.  News  had  come  through 
of  a  German  rally  on  the  Aisne.  All  was  going  well 
again  and  Major  Prassler  would  be  marching  into 
Paris  before  many  days.  So  said  Jutta.  But  the  men 
took  the  situation  more  seriously.  The  Major  ex- 
horted his  wife  to  return  to  Berlin  at  once,  but  she 
derided  his  anxieties  and  said  that  she  was  as  safe 
here  as  there.  She  promised  to  clear  out  at  the  least 
sign  of  danger ;  but,  as  he  knew,  they  were  living  here 
rent  free,  while  in  Berlin  they  would  have  to  pay 
through  the  nose  for  everything. 

"But  you  have  your  own  flat  there,"  said  Brenda. 

"We  have  let  that  to  a  rich  man  from  Konigsberg 
who  is  afraid  of  the  Russians,"  said  Jutta. 

"I  wish  we  could  have  let  ours,"  said  Lothar.  "We 
never  do  anything  so  sensible." 

Brenda  could  not  understand  the  Major.  He  did 
not  seem  to  care  much  whether  his  wife  stayed  here 
or  went  home.  After  he  had  advised  her  to  go  to 
Berlin  he  seemed  to  think  he  had  done  all  he  need  do 
and  talked  entirely  of  himself  and  of  the  food  and 
wine  he  wanted  sent  after  him.  There  was  good  wine 
in  the  cellar  belonging  to  the  flat,  and  he  was  going 
to  divide  it  with  Lothar.  Some  champagne  was 
opened  just  before  he  started  and  his  health  drunk  in 
it.  Lothar  went  with  him  to  the  barracks  from  which 
his  regiment  was  to  start  and  came  back  with  some 
additional  instructions  about  wine.  The  beautiful 
Jutta  heaved  a  sigh  and  murmured  something  about 
the  poor  good  man,  might  Heaven  spare  him,  and  then 
settled  down  to  a  game  of  cards  with  Lothar.  Brenda 
tried  to  read  a  novel,  but  found  her  attention  wan- 
dered to  the  pair  sitting  in  close  communion  on  a  small 
brocaded  seat  that  just  held  them.  Considering  that 
she  was  in  the  room  she  thought  the  most  elementary 
code  of  manners  might  have  directed  them  to  show 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  275 

more  restraint.  But  the  woman  ogled  the  man  and 
the  man  made  sheep's  eyes  at  the  woman,  while  their 
voices,  if  not  their  actual  words,  proclaimed  their 
intimacy.  At  last,  though  it  was  only  nine  o'clock, 
Brenda  got  up  and  went  to  bed.  They  answered  her 
good  night  with  brazen  indifference  and  hardly  looked 
up  from  their  game. 

During  the  next  fortnight  life  pressed  hard  on 
Brenda,  so  that  she  looked  here  and  there  like  a  hunted 
creature  for  some  way  of  escape.  Her  position  had 
become  intolerable,  for  neither  Lothar  nor  Jutta  con- 
sidered her  in  any  way.  At  home  they  flaunted  their 
intimacy  in  her  face  and  abroad  her  presence  gave 
them  security.  She  thought  that  every  one  who  came 
to  the  house  understood  the  true  state  of  things  and 
derided  her  acquiescence  in  it.  Yet  what  could  she 
do?  Remonstrance  with  Lothar  was  worse  than 
useless.  It  roused  him  to  fury.  He  regarded  her 
as  wholly  in  his  power,  an  encumbrance,  and  a  critic ; 
in  each  guise  a  thing  to  trample  on.  So  he  trampled 
in  the  time-honored  way,  shouting,  stamping,  cursing 
her  and  her  country,  painting  victory  red.  When 
these  violent  scenes  had  left  Brenda  shaken  and  de- 
feated Jutta  would  make  bad  worse  by  her  airs 
towards  Lothar  of  sympathy  and  possession.  She  was 
so  sorry  for  the  poor  man  and  so  glad  that  he  had 
her  to  console  him.  She  pictured  herself  married  to 
an  Englishman  in  this  great  hour  and  understood  how 
Lothar  must  suffer  from  his  wife's  obstinate  want  of 
duty.  For  in  Jutta's  opinion  it  was  a  woman's  duty 
to  accept  her  husband's  nationality  at  any  cost  to 
her  own  feelings.  If  she  had  married  an  Englishman 
she  would  now  be  English.  Yet,  as  she  said  this  she 
shuddered,  for  it  sounded  blasphemous. 

She  was  an  evil  woman.  After  being  under  her 
heel  for  a  fortnight  Brenda  had  to  recognize  this 
though  it  upset  ancient  theories  about  good  in  every 
one  and  your  power  of  appeal  to  it.  She  could  find 


276  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

no  good  in  Jutta  anywhere;  at  any  rate  evil  overlaid 
good  and  made  her  dangerous.  She  had  the  whip 
hand  of  Brenda  and  that  did  not  awake  her  generos- 
ity. She  knew  neither  shame  nor  mercy.  The  little 
Belgian  maid  feared  and  hated  her,  but  knew  of  no 
other  roof  to  her  head.  She  constantly  came  to 
Brenda  for  advice  and  comfort  in  her  troubles,  half 
understanding  that  Brenda  was  in  something  of  the 
same  case.  One  day  they  met  outside  and  went  to- 
gether to  see  some  members  of  a  family  who  had 
escaped  from  the  German  fury  in  Louvain.  The  little 
maid  had  once  lived  with  them  as  their  servant,  for 
they  had  been  prosperous  tradespeople  with  a  com- 
fortable house.  Now  no  one  was  left  but  the  wife, 
who  was  recovering  from  a  bayonet  wound  in  her  side, 
and  one  child  who  had  been  badly  burnt.  They  were 
penniless  but  were  being  nursed  by  some  relatives  in 
Brussels.  Brenda  stayed  with  the  woman  for  an  hour 
and  heard  her  story.  She  had  seen  her  daughter  in 
the  hands  of  drunken  soldiers  and  knew  that  she  was 
dead.  Her  husband  had  been  shot  as  he  tried  to  help 
her  out  of  their  burning  house,  and  her  son,  badly 
wounded,  had  been  sent  in  a  cattle  truck  to  Germany. 
She  did  not  know  whether  he  was  dead  or  alive.  Their 
friends,  their  neighbors,  people  above  them  and  below 
them  socially  had  suffered  with  them.  Nearly  every 
one  the  woman  knew  in  Louvain  and  elsewhere  had 
been  clawed  by  the  wild  beasts  let  loose  on  their  homes. 
Brenda  had  not  thought  such  horrors  were  possible 
in  the  modern  world.  The  nation  always  boasting 
of  its  culture  and  its  strength  had  used  its  strength 
to  commit  abominations  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord ;  and 
their  Csesar  took  the  Lord's  name  in  vain  as  a  mantle 
to  his  crimes.  As  the  Lord  liveth  there  mtist  be  judg- 
ment on  them  for  these  infamies.  Brenda  went  out 
from  the  woman's  house  with  a  bowed  head  and  a 
heavy  heart ;  and  found  herself  edged  from  the  pave- 
ment by  a  group  of  officers,  swaggering  towards  her 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  277 

with  no  idea  of  making  room.  Their  voices  were  loud, 
their  laughter  grated  on  her  nerves.  There  was  no 
judgment  on  these  devils.  Hell  was  paramount  and 
the  weak  might  go  to  the  wall. 

In  a  mood  wrought  of  despondency  and  burning 
wrath  she  went  back  to  the  flat  to  find  Lothar  waiting 
for  her  with  a  scowling  face. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  he  thundered. 

"To  see  a  child  who  was  burnt  and  a  woman  who 
was  bayoneted  at  Louvain,"  she  said,  standing  up  to 
him  because  her  anger  gave  her  force. 

"Damn  Louvain!  What  is  Louvain  to  you?"  said 
Lothar.  "Go  and  pack  your  trunks." 

Brenda's  first  thought  and  hope  when  he  startled 
her  by  saying  this,  was  of  a  German  defeat  and  evac- 
uation of  Brussels.  She  laughed  in  his  face  because 
she  was  still  thinking  of  the  woman  she  had  just  seen 
and  of  Louvain.  "Are  you  driven  back?"  she  said. 
"Are  the  French  and  English  coming?" 

She  thought  he  would  strike  her  and  moved  back 
involuntarily;  but  not  far.  So  they  stood  facing  each 
other,  he  furiously  angry  and  she  flouting  him  because 
he  had  been  at  Louvain  and  had  those  weals  on  his 
face.  If  he  struck  her  or  killed  her  she  would  not 
suffer  as  those  women  of  Louvain  had  from  such  men 
as  this. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  he  said,  watching 
her  face. 

"I've  been  hearing  about  Louvain  from  a  woman 
who  was  there ;  and  you  were  there." 

"Of  course  I  was  there." 

"Everywhere  women  and  children  have  been  mur- 
dered as  they  were  at  Cawnpore — no,  worse  than 
there,  for  they  have  been  tortured.  The  English  have 
never  forgotten  Cawnpore." 

"Damn  the  English!" 

"Perhaps  you  will  be  dead  when  it  is  all  over.  But 
for  those  of  you  who  are  not  dead  it  will  be  a  horrible 


278  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

world  because  we  shall  all  remember.  You  will  be 
unclean." 

"What  do  you  suppose  the  top  dog  cares  about  the 
under  dog's  grievances?"  jeered  Lothar.  "Go  and 
pack  a  small  trunk.  I  can't  do  with  you  here  any 
longer.  I'm  going  to  risk  it  and  take  you  to  Eng- 
land." 

"To  England!"  Brenda's  heart  leaped  with  hope 
and  thankfulness. 

"On  one  condition,  and  remember  that  my  life 
depends  on  it.  But  perhaps  as  I've  been  in  Louvain 
my  life  isn't  safe  in  your  hands,"  and  he  caricatured 
her  voice  of  horror  when  she  had  spoken  of  Louvain. 

"What  is  the  condition?" 

"That  you  hold  your  tongue.  I  shall  be  in  mufti 
and  we  shall  travel  as  Americans." 

"But  how  can  you?" 

"No  questions.  Either  you  come  to  England  with 
me  to-night  or  you  go  to  an  internment  camp  in  Berlin. 
I  can't  stand  the  sight  of  you.  Besides,  I  may  have  a 
mission  anywhere  and  Jutta  doesn't  want  you.  When 
the  war  is  over  we  can  rearrange  things.  If  old  Prass- 
ler  is  killed  you  can  divorce  me.  You've  only  an  hour 
to  pack  up." 


XXV 

THEY  crossed  from  Ostend  to  Dover.  As  long 
as  German  soldiers  and  officials  stopped  them 
Lothar  showed  German  papers.  When  they  got 
amongst  the  Belgians  Lothar  had  two  passports  that 
seemed  to  satisfy  every  one.  He  refused  to  show 
them  to  Brenda,  who,  as  the  night  went  on,  was  begin- 
ning to  recover  from  the  daze  and  flurry  of  their 
sudden  departure.  The  little  Belgian  maid  had  wept 
bitterly  when  she  saw  Brenda  pack  her  trunk,  and 
had  wanted  to  go  with  her  to  England.  So  Brenda 
gave  her  money  enough  for  her  journey,  and  told 
her  to  come  if  she  liked  and  could  get  permission 
to  leave.  It  was  impossible  to  wait  for  her  or  to 
propose  taking  her.  Lothar  was  not  in  an  amiable 
mood.  He  hardly  spoke  to  Brenda  as  they  traveled, 
and  though  he  watched  her  closely  he  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  her  comfort. 

"Is  it  safe  for  you  to  go  to  England?"  she  asked 
him  when  they  were  by  themselves  for  a  short  time  in 
a  first-class  compartment. 

"Why  not?     Unless  you  betray  me?" 

"I  shall  not  do  that;  but  you  don't  look  Ameri- 
can." 

"What  do  I  look  in  your  opinion?" 

"German." 

It  was  very  odd  and  puzzling,  thought  Brenda. 
After  living  a  whole  year  in  Germany  she  could  not 
explain  it.  Although  all  Germans  would  assure  you 

279 


280  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

that  they  were  the  salt  of  the  earth  she  had  never 
met  one  yet  who  liked  to  hear  that  he  was  a  recog- 
nizable German.  She  ought  not  to  have  irritated 
Lothar  in  this  way  she  knew,  but  there  was  something 
so  inexplicable  in  their  blend  of  national  conceit  and 
want  of  national  dignity  that  she  always  felt  inclined 
to  probe  it.  Lothar  turned  as  red  as  beetroot  and 
glared  at  her  when  she  said  he  looked  German,  but 
she  really  thought  that  to  land  in  Dover  in  those 
clothes  would  endanger  him.  She  did  not  quite  know 
what  it  was  that  marked  them.  They  were  sober  in 
color  and  cheap  looking.  So  was  his  dark-brown 
squash  hat.  Yet  she  saw  the  German  in  those  clothes 
as  plainly  as  she  had  often  seen  German  lettering 
spell  English  words  on  goods  made  in  Germany. 

"I  should  not  be  afraid  to  travel  by  myself  from 
Ostend,"  she  went  on.  "Have  you  taken  our  tickets 
to  London?" 

He  did  not  answer  her;  but  she  perceived  that  he 
was  annoyed  by  her  solicitude  and  by  her  questions. 
Her  thoughts  became  busier  than  before  with  the 
reasons  for  his  journey  and  the  problem  of  his  re- 
ception in  London.  Would  he  expect  to  stay  with  her 
parents  and  would  they  shelter  an  alien  enemy?  and 
could  he  break  their  bread  now  that  he  had  told  Brenda 
outright  of  his  unfaithfulness?  She  was  going  home 
a  broken  woman,  whose  husband  hated  the  sight  of 
her.  He  wanted  a  divorce.  She  would  have  to 
tell  her  father  and  mother  these  things,  she  supposed, 
and  give  them  great  pain:  or  could  she  await  the 
fortunes  of  war  and  see  if  time  brought  changes? 
As  the  Germans  made  war  no  one  knew  who  would 
live  or  die,  for  they  made  war  on  women  and  chil- 
dren as  ruthlessly  as  on  armed  men.  They  would 
burn  London  to  ashes  if  they  could  and  every 
one  in  it. 

"I  shall  have  to  speak  to  my  parents  of  our  own 
affairs,"  she  said  suddenly,  "We  had  better  come 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  281 

to  an  understanding  about  that,  Lothar,  if  you  are 
coming  home  with  me." 

"I  am  not  coming  home  with  you,"  he  said;  "do 
you  take  me  for  a  fool  ?  If  I  could  trust  your  parents 
I  couldn't  trust  the  servants." 

Again  Brenda  wondered  why  in  that  case  he  insisted 
on  going  to  England  with  her.  It  was  impossible 
to  believe  that  any  chivalrous  care  for  her  safety  kept 
him  at  her  side.  He  showed  positive  antagonism  and 
dislike  whenever  he  spoke  to  her,  and  she  knew  that 
when  he  had  said  he  hated  the  sight  of  her  he  had 
told  the  brutal  truth.  Woman-like  she  blamed  the 
other  woman.  Jutta  had  not  been  content  to  win 
him  from  her  and  leave  in  him  some  measure  of 
regard  for  his  wife.  She  had  never  ceased  to  work 
on  his  patriotism  and  infect  him  with  her  own  beast 
of  prey  propensities;  he  was  to  feel  neither  regret 
nor  shame  in  his  repudiation  of  an  Englishwoman. 
Henceforward  life  together  would  be  ridiculous  and 
irksome.  In  spite  of  her  apparent  gentleness  Brenda 
had  not  proved  malleable  under  the  German  hammer. 
So  away  with  her,  out  of  German  eyes. 

But  because  she  had  not  proved  malleable  and 
because  she  took  some  blame  to  herself  for  the  failure 
of  their  marriage  she  felt  the  tragedy  of  it  without 
bitterness.  If  she  had  loved  Lothar  from  the  depths 
of  her  heart  perhaps  she  could  have  kept  his  heart  .  .  . 
she  stopped  short  in  her  musings:  and  she  looked  at 
the  man  opposite  to  her  with  whom  she  had  lived  in 
married  intimacy  and  from  whom  she  was  to  part  in  a 
few  hours.  She  had  been  his  wife,  but  she  had  never 
found  his  heart  and  she  had  never  really  suited  him. 
She  could  not  make  the  appeal  to  his  senses  that  Jutta 
did,  and  she  could  not  settle  down  to  the  position  of 
household  drudge  and  foil  to  Jutta.  Besides,  hence- 
forward, she  could  never  forget  for  a  single  moment 
that  he  had  been  at  Louvain.  What  part  he  had 
played,  where  exactly  he  had  been  before  he  reached 


282  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Louvain  she  dared  not  ask,  and  would  probably  never 
know.  But  the  fires  that  had  burned  that  night  and 
the  deeds  that  had  been  done  must  separate  them 
forever. 

The  boat  was  crowded  to  danger  point  with  Belgians 
and  some  English.  Brenda  spent  the  night  on  deck 
wide  awake  and  all  eyes  and  ears.  Here  were  people 
who  had  seen  what  she  only  knew  by  hearsay,  and  who 
counted  themselves  lucky  to  have  escaped  with  their 
lives.  Some  talked  Flemish,  and  those  she  could  not 
understand;  but  she  found  herself  next  to  some 
women  of  the  prosperous  bourgeois  class  from  Dinant, 
who  had  got  away  a  bare  hour  before  the  Boches 
entered  the  little  town  and  set  it  on  fire  and  murdered 
men,  women  and  children  there.  The  brother  of  one 
and  his  family  had  all  been  victims ;  and  in  the  hearing 
of  Lothar  these  women  asked  Brenda  what  could  be 
said  of  monsters  who  hacked  little  children  to  pieces 
and  burned  the  dead  and  the  living  in  a  heap  together. 
Brenda  expected  an  outburst  from  Lothar,  a  violent 
justification  or  denial.  But  he  sat  woodenly  in  a 
dark  corner  and  did  not  speak.  What  could  he  have 
said  she  thought?  The  excuse  that  was  good  enough 
for  Germans,  for  neutrals  and  for  English  cranks, 
the  empty  lie  about  unarmed  civilians  in  the  last  ex- 
tremities of  terror  shooting  at  these  conquering 
hordes!  Even  Lothar  could  not  thrust  it  down  the 
throats  of  women  whose  nearest  and  dearest  had  been 
sacrificed.  At  any  rate  he  sat  there  saying  nothing, 
moving  hardly  at  all.  His  air  was  furtive,  his  usual 
swagger  had  fallen  from  him,  and  when  the  officials 
of  the  boat  examined  tickets  and  passports  he 
said  what  was  necessary  with  a  distinct  American 
twang. 

Soon  after  the  dawn  broke  and  Dover  cliffs  were 
in  sight,  Brenda,  cramped  and  chilly,  got  up  to  look 
at  them.  As  they  stood  together  in  the  dense  crowd 
behind  the  gangway  Lothar  took  one  of  the  passports 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  283 

from  an  inside  pocket  and  put   it  into   her  hands. 

"I  am  not  coming  farther  than  this  with  you,"  he 
said.  "Have  you  money  enough  for  your  ticket  to 
London?" 

"Are  you  not  going  to  London?"  cried  Brenda  in 
surprise. 

"Never  mind  me.     What  money  have  you?" 

Brenda  had  nothing  but  a  little  Belgian  money 
which  she  gave  him  in  exchange  for  an  English  sov- 
ereign. Then  the  press  in  front  of  them  moved  on  a 
little,  she  picked  up  her  dressing-case  and  found  her- 
self pushed  forward  by  the  crowd  behind.  It  was 
all  she  could  do  to  keep  her  feet  and,  when  she  got 
to  the  steep  slippery  gangway,  to  shuffle  herself,  her 
rug  and  her  heavy  dressing-case  into  safety  on  the 
pier.  Then  she  hustled  with  others  towards  the  train 
and  wondered  if  Lothar  was  following  her.  More 
than  once  she  turned  to  look  for  him,  but  he  had 
vanished.  They  had  said  no  kind  of  good-bye  to 
each  other,  and  he  had  given  her  no  idea  of  his  plans 
or  his  address.  She  found  that  her  passport  was 
made  out  in  her  maiden  name  and  signed  by  the 
German  authorities.  She  was  described  as  a  British 
subject  residing  in  Brussels,  but  returning  home  by 
their  permission.  She  had  no  difficulty  with  it  at 
Charing  Cross,  and  by  eight  o'clock  was  in  a  taxi  on 
her  way  to  St.  John's  Wood. 

When  she  got  there  she  walked  straight  into  the 
dining-room  unannounced  and  found,  as  she  expected, 
that  her  father  and  mother  had  just  sat  down  to 
breakfast.  She  went  quickly  forward  without  speak- 
ing, trying  to  smile  but  stupidly  overcome  and  nearer 
to  tears  than  smiles. 

"Brenda,"  cried  her  mother,  and  then  the  tears 
came. 

"Have  you  had  breakfast?"  said  her  father  when 
he,  too,  had  welcomed  her  with  warmth  that  in  some 
measure  showed  her  what  their  anxiety  had  been; 


284  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

for  since  war  broke  out  they  had  only  received 
one  letter  from  her  and  that  had  told  them  little  or 
nothing. 

"You  only  knew  that  you  were  coming  last  night 
and  Lothar  brought  you  as  far  as  Dover,"  said  Mr. 
Muller  when  the  parlormaid  had  brought  breakfast 
things  for  Brenda  and  gone  away  again.  "But  how 
could  he  get  through  ...  a  German  officer?" 

"He  traveled  as  an  American  and  in  mufti,"  said 
Brenda. 

"How  could  he  travel  as  an  American?" 

"He  had  a  passport." 

"Has  he  gone  straight  back?" 

"I  don't  think  so.  He  brought  a  suit-case.  But 
I  lost  sight  of  him  at  Dover." 

Mr.  Muller  said  no  more  just  then,  and  Brenda 
waited  until  after  breakfast  when  she  was  alone  with 
her  mother  in  her  old  room,  which  had  not  been  in 
any  way  changed  since  her  marriage. 

"You  know  I  can  never  go  back  to  him,"  she  said 
then. 

Mrs.  Muller  answered  neither  Yea  nor  Nay,  but 
showed  distress.  She  had  seen  enough  of  Brenda's 
marriage  in  the  spring  to  feel  no  surprise,  but  all 
this  summer  she  had  hoped  against  hope  that  things 
were  going  better  with  her  child.  Jem  and  Violet 
had  been  able  to  tell  her  nothing  that  was  new,  and 
Brenda's  long  silence  this  autumn  told  her  nothing. 
The  general  catastrophe  and  Lothar's  probable  depart- 
ure for  the  field  might  have  brought  husband  and 
wife  together  in  a  way  the  paths  of  peace  never  could 
have  done.  Mrs.  Muller  was  too  shrewd  a  woman 
to  expect  miracles,  but  yet  she  knew  that  they  were 
worked  occasionally  under  great  stress  of  emotion: 
and  she  wanted  one  though  she  disliked  Lothar. 
Marriage  in  her  opinion  was  a  corner-stone  in  the 
temple  of  life  that  nothing  except  death  could  dis- 
lodge. 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  285 

"No  one  can  look  forward  much,"  she  said.  "No 
one  knows  what  will  happen.  Have  you  had  our 
letters?" 

"I  have  heard  nothing  for  weeks,  and  I  have  seen 
no  English  paper  except  a  stale  copy  of  'The  Times' 
that  I  gave  twenty  francs  for  in  Brussels." 

Brenda  stood  at  the  window,  looking  at  the  garden 
she  used  to  tend.  It  was  a  golden  autumn  morning, 
and  the  sun  was  shining  into  the  pleasant  peaceful 
room.  Her  mother  had  sat  down  near  the  toilet-table 
and  was  sticking  pins  into  a  pincushion.  The  bed 
had  been  made  while  Brenda  had  breakfast,  the  fire 
was  lighted  and  hot  water  stood  ready  for  her  on  the 
washstand.  It  might  have  been  any  day  before  her 
marriage  when  she  had  returned  from  a  visit  or  a 
journey,  and  found  her  room  comfortably  ready  for 
her  and  her  mother  waiting  to  hear  all  she  had  to  tell. 
But  the  resemblance  was  only  in  external  things.  The 
girl  had  come  back  a  woman  with  sorrow  in  her  soul 
and  a  sense  of  failure.  She  had  a  great  deal  to  tell 
but  found  it  difficult  to  begin,  so  she  put  her  own 
affairs  aside  for  the  time  and  asked  her  mother  for  the 
home  news  she  had  not  received  in  letters. 

Jem  had  a  commission  in  a  Terrier  regiment  she 
found  and  so  had  Andrew  Lovel.  Their  training  with 
the  O.  T.  C.  had  been  of  service  to  them  and  they 
had  been  taken  at  once.  They  were  together  at  Col- 
chester and  sometimes  came  home  for  week-ends. 
Jack  Wilmot  had  been  in  the  retreat  from  Mons  and 
was  still  in  France.  Thekla  was  doing  Red  Cross 
work  and  Violet  was  occupied  with  Belgian  refugees. 
So  was  Mrs.  Miiller.  Mundy  was  still  in  Egypt.  So 
the  tale  went  on:  a  roll  of  enlistment  or  of  work 
that  seemed  to  include  every  one  Brenda  had  ever 
known  in  England.  This  did  not  sound  like  the 
national  decadence  discovered  and  prophesied  by 
England's  enemies;  and  she  asked  whether  people 
had  been  greatly  roused  by  the  German  cruelties  in 


286  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

Belgium,  for  that  had  become  her  touchstone.  She 
had  been  too  near  the  butchers  and  the  victim  to  re- 
main unmoved,  and  henceforward  any  one  who  turned 
a  deaf  ear  to  that  black  recital  stood  dishonored  in 
her  eyes:  a  thing  insensitive  and  smug,  turning  its 
back  on  an  agony  it  did  not  feel  and  for  its  own 
comfort  would  not  contemplate. 

Violet's  father  was  inclined  to  whitewash  the  Ger- 
mans, said  Mrs.  Miiller,  and  then  she  owned  that  at 
first  her  husband  and  she  had  found  it  difficult  to 
believe  that  men  of  their  own  blood  had  done  these 
things.  But  every  day  the  evidence  was  mounting 
up  against  them.  What  had  come  to  Germany? 

It  was  beyond  Brenda  to  answer  that  question  at 
that  date.  She  knew  that  German  people  were  docile 
in  politics  and,  in  spite  of  a  model  educational  system, 
uncivilized  socially;  and  she  supposed  that  their  lead- 
ers were  Gadarene  swine  possessed  of  an  evil  spirit 
and  rushing  to  destruction.  At  least  she  hoped  they 
were  going  to  be  destroyed  when  the  rest  of  the 
world  had  made  ready. 

"I  can  tell  you  what  August  says,"  she  answered 
in  reply  to  her  father's  questions  that  evening.  "And 
if  you  know  that,  I  think  you  know  average  opinion 
over  there.  He  says  that  in  the  midst  of  peace  Ger- 
many has  been  attacked  by  a  treacherous  coalition, 
with  England  as  chief  conspirator;  but  he  is  positive 
of  victory  because  he  was  ready  while  his  contemptible 
and  decadent  enemies  were  not.  He  says  that  the 
German  soldiers  are  the  most  humane  in  the  world, 
but  that  the  Belgian  populace  deserved  to  be  slaught- 
ered because  it  did  not  consent  to  be  invaded;  and 
that  even  the  cats  and  dogs  of  Germany  will  fight 
rather  than  allow  the  sacred  soil  of  the  Fatherland 
to  be  polluted  by  the  heel  of  the  foreigner.  Also 
England  possesses  everything  worth  having  in  the 
world  and  is  making  war  on  Germany  out  of  greed 
and  jealousy.  Her  downfall  is  certain  because  her 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  287 

men  are  too  selfish  and  cowardly  to  fight.  The  blacks 
and  other  mercenaries  she  sends  into  the  field  .  .  . 
but  you  know  the  kind  of  stuff.  You  read  it  every 
day  in  ravings  from  Hamburg  and  Berlin.  They  have 
brains  I  can't  understand;  stuffed  with  information 
but  empty  of  all  sense.  They  believe  in  the  same 
minute  that  our  Navy  is  frightened  of  theirs  and 
hiding;  and  that  it  is  starving  German  women  and 
children  by  its  blockade.  I've  seen  both  things  said 
in  one  paper  on  one  day.  Are  you  going  to  call  your- 
self Miller  in  future,  Dad?" 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Mr.  Miiller.  He  had  two  sons 
and  a  son-in-law  in  the  forces ;  and  if  before  the  war 
he  could  have  hesitated  between  the  country  of  his 
fathers  and  the  country  of  his  children  he  had  no 
hesitations  now.  England  had  many  devoted  sons 
with  foreign  names.  The  lists  of  men  giving  life  and 
limb  for  her  showed  it.  He  looked  surprised  when 
Brenda  asked  him  if  they  had  suffered  no  inconven- 
ience from  their  nationality  or  seen  no  alteration  in 
their  English  friends :  and  then  he  listened  with  grow- 
ing amazement  to  her  stories  of  what  she  had  heard 
and  endured  in  Berlin.  He  had  read  of  such  things  in 
the  papers,  he  said,  but  he  only  half  believed  them. 
She  told  them  of  insults  she  had  received  from  com- 
mon folk  in  the  streets;  of  August's  lecture  when  an 
audience  of  the  better  class  had  threatened  her;  of 
sitting  next  to  a  woman  in  a  restaurant  who  spit  into 
her  cup  of  coffee,  and  of  the  ghoulish  joy  shown 
everywhere  in  the  abuse  of  wounded  prisoners  and  in 
the  slaughter  of  civilians  by  land  and  sea.  She  told 
them  of  her  life  in  Brussels — of  the  conquerors'  riot- 
ing and  stealing  in  rich  men's  houses  there,  of  the 
public  and  private  oppression,  and  of  the  heritage  the 
Bodies  were  preparing  for  themselves  in  the  memory 
of  those  victims  who  survived  their  fury.  All  the 
evening  she  sat  with  her  father  and  mother  in  the  old 
way  and  talked  to  them,  Mr.  Miiller  asked  her  no 


288  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

questions  about  her  own  affairs.  He  saw  that  she 
looked  overwrought  and  white  and  thin;  and  he 
guessed  that  she  would  not  have  left  her  husband 
unless  there  had  been  some  difficulty  between  them. 
When  he  was  alone  with  his  wife  he  asked  her  what 
had  happened,  and  as  far  as  she  knew  she  told  him. 
Lothar  was  living  openly  with  another  woman  and  had 
informed  Brenda  that  after  the  war  he  wanted  a 
divorce.  He  had  compelled  his  wife  to  spend  a  fort- 
night under  the  same  roof  as  his  mistress,  and  in 
every  way  had  treated  her  outrageously.  She  had 
told  her  mother  that  she  could  never  go  back  to  him. 

"I  wish  she  had  never  married  him,"  finished  Mrs. 
Miiller. 

"What's  he  doing  in  Dover?"  said  Mr.  Miiller. 
"I  believe  I  ought  to  inform  the  authorities.  What's 
a  German  officer  in  mufti  doing  in  Dover?  with  a 
forged  passport." 

"But  Gustav,  whatever  he  is  Brenda  has  married 
him,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller.  "I  cannot  bring  myself  to 
see  a  child  of  mine  divorced.  Perhaps  after  the  war 
some  arrangement  could  be  made.  If  he  would  give 
up  this  woman  and  you  saw  that  Brenda  had  control 
of  her  own  money." 

"I  always  sent  it  straight  to  her." 

"She  has  never  had  it.  Siegmund  Abel  gave  her  a 
little  for  her  journey  to  Brussels." 

"I'm  glad  she  is  safely  here,"  said  Mr.  Miiller. 

"For  the  present:  but  what  of  the  future?"  asked 
his  wife.  "Of  course  I  told  Brenda  not  to  look  for- 
ward, but  I  can't  help  being  anxious  myself.  I  have 
a  great  horror  of  divorce." 

"Then  you  must  hope  for  a  bullet,"  said  Mr.  Miiller 
inhumanely.  "It  seems  to  be  one  or  the  other.  Any- 
how, as  long  as  we  live  Brenda  can  have  a  home  with 
us." 

"But  what  are  we  to  say  about  her  husband?" 

"Nothing,"  said  Mr.  Miiller  and  fell  asleep. 


XXV 

MORE  than  a  year  had  passed  since  Brenda  left 
Brussels,   but   the   joy   of   being   in  England 
was  still  fresh.     She  felt  as  if  she  was  living 
amongst  civilized  people  again  after  spending  a  year 
amongst  hostile  savages ;   and  she  felt  this  in  spite  of 
knowing  that  Elsa  was  a  better  linguist  than  Violet, 
that  August  was  as  learned  as  he  was  pedantic,  and 
that  Lothar  was  certainly  a  better-trained  soldier  than 
Andrew  Lovel  or  Jem. 

When  she  had  arrived  last  autumn  straight  from  a 
rejoicing  and  triumphant  Germany  it  had  puzzled  her 
to  find  England  rejoicing  and  triumphant  too.  She 
heard  people  talk  of  the  German  Army  as  if  it  was 
virtually  a  beaten  one,  and  as  if  Belgium  would  be 
evacuated  before  the  end  of  the  year:  and  as  she 
looked  back  she  saw  the  gradual  change  in  the  nation 
from  facile  optimism  to  a  more  intelligent  understand- 
ing of  the  task  before  them.  There  were  other  changes 
too.  At  first  she  had  met  people  who,  because  they 
had  met  honorable  Germans  in  private  life  believed 
that  the  German  Army  must  behave  honorably,  and 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  stories  of  cruelty  in  Belgium. 
Some  of  these  people  she  considered  both  stupid 
and  callous,  inasmuch  as  they  had  neither  eyes  nor 
heart  for  vicarious  suffering.  When  she  heard  and 
read  of  the  things  that  had  been  done  in  the  Bel- 
gian villages  she  could  not  understand  why  the  whole 
human  race  did  not  rise  against  the  monsters  who  had 
glutted  their  lust  there,  and  sweep  them  from  power. 

289 


290  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

But  always,  behind  them,  she  saw  some  of  the  kindly 
honest  Germans  she  had  known  and  liked;  Siegmund 
Abel  for  instance,  the  wife  of  Lothar's  colonel,  the 
little  fair-haired  lieutenant  at  Mannheim,  her  own 
grandmother  and  great-grandmother,  her  own  parents ; 
and  always  the  insoluble  problem  troubled  her  of  a 
nation  with  so  much  good  in  it  descending  to  these 
depths  of  infamy.  She  could  never  join  in  the  cry 
for  reprisals.  In  her  opinion  it  was  unworthy  and 
inconsequent  to  call  for  outrages  that  put  the  men 
who  commit  them  outside  the  human  pale.  Whoever 
is  cruel  is  damned:  whether  he  takes  the  initiative  or 
takes  revenge.  But  that  any  one  could  watch  Ger- 
many at  war  without  wrath  and  abiding  contempt  was 
inconceivable. 

What  were  those  divines  made  of  who  preached  to 
the  English  not  to  hate  their  enemies?  To  the  Eng- 
lish, whose  imperturbable  good-humor  and  tolerance 
made  most  people  rub  their  eyes.  When  at  last  they 
were  partly  roused,  when  undefended  Yorkshire 
towns  were  bombarded,  when  the  drowning  of  the 
fourteen  hundred  men,  women  and  children  on  the 
"Lusitania"  was  celebrated  with  rejoicings  in  German 
schools,  when  fighting  men  died  in  agonies  from 
poisoned  gas,  when  the  Canadians  were  found  crucified 
and  Edith  Cavell  was  executed  in  cold  blood,  even 
then  Brenda  did  not  see  anything  in  England  on  a 
par  with  the  frenzy  of  the  Hymn  of  Hate.  The 
English  said  as  the  Tommy  did  when  he  landed  at 
Boulogne  in  the  first  week  of  war:  "That  there 
Kaiser  has  got  to  be  stopped."  But  they  were  not 
going  to  slop  over  into  hate  or  use  silly  shibboleths 
to  remind  each  other  of  what  was  to  be  done.  The 
Strafers  must  be  stopped,  and  they  were  not  going  to 
be  easily  stopped.  That  grew  plainer  day  by  day. 
Brenda  never  met  any  one  who  doubted  the  ultimate 
issue  or  who  was  unwilling  to  make  the  sacrifices 
necessary.  At  any  rate  her  own  class  was  shouldering 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  291 

the  burden,  and  while  the  politicians  and  the  press 
scolded  the  nation  because  it  was  sleepy  and  extrava- 
gant, it  seemed  to  her  that  nearly  every  man,  woman 
and  child  in  the  nation  was  trying  to  do  its  duty. 
Therefore  the  rebukes  publicly  administered  by  poli- 
ticians, journalists  and  the  pulpit  chiefly  affected 
people  in  foreign  countries,  both  friendly  and  hostile: 
so  that  an  eminent  Dutchman  asked  to  draw  a  picture 
of  London  in  war-time  drew  one  of  young  men  and 
women  dancing!  Perhaps  he  drew  what  he  had  seen. 
If  so  his  experience  was  unlike  Brenda's,  who  wore 
mourning  because  her  elder  brother  had  been  killed  at 
Gallipoli  and  her  brother-in-law,  Major  Wilmot,  at 
Ypres,  and  who  knew  of  some  heart  broken  and  some 
life  cut  short  in  nearly  every  household,  rich  and  poor, 
that  opened  its  doors  to  her.  She  saw  her  father  and 
mother  aged  by  grief  and  anxiety  for  their  sons;  she 
tried  to  comfort  Thekla  in  her  widowhood;  she  hardly 
dared  to  speak  of  Jem  to  Violet,  who  took  the  separa- 
tion hard  and  went  white  when  she  saw  a  telegram. 
Everywhere  she  met  people  sorrowing,  nursing  their 
sick  or  anxiously  waiting;  and  even  when  she  saw  a 
crowd  at  the  doors  of  a  cinema  she  did  not  jump  to  a 
foregone  conclusion  that  none  of  them  were  hit  by  the 
war.  She  agreed  with  the  mother  who  said  her  boy 
home  on  leave  from  the  trenches  should  have  a  bath 
of  champagne  if  he  wanted  it,  and  she  perceived  that 
wherever  there  was  feasting  in  England  now  it  was 
for  the  righting  men:  some  of  them  such  children. 
Brenda  used  to  look  at  them  rather  wistfully  and 
wonder  what  chance  they  would  have  in  battle  against 
mature,  powerfully-built  men  like  Major  Prassler  and 
Lothar. 

In  October  Jem  came  over  on  leave  for  a  week  and 
brought  news  of  Major,  now  Colonel  Lovel,  and  of 
Andrew.  They  were  near  Loos  and  were  sometimes 
in  billets,  sometimes  in  trenches  taken  from  the  Ger- 
mans in  September.  Jem  was  in  excellent  spirits 


292  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

and  made  light  of  the  discomforts  of  life  out  there. 
He  cheered  them  all  up  at  home,  laughed  at  the 
alarmist  press,  instructed  them  in  the  uses  of  the 
British  Navy,  and  charged  them  not  to  believe  the 
grousers  who  brought  back  stories  of  muddles  and  in- 
capacity in  the  higher  command.  Mr.  Lovel  came 
up  from  Cornwall  on  purpose  to  see  him,  and  hear  all 
he  could  about  his  brother  and  Andrew.  His  chief 
anxiety  seemed  to  be  that  his  brother  and  Andrew 
should  not  hate  their  enemies,  and  like  the  rest  of  his 
tribe  he  could  not  distinguish  between  the  hatred  of 
sin  that  ennobles  and  the  hatred  of  the  other  man 
that  debases.  He  was  the  slave  of  words  and  phrases ; 
and  he  exasperated  Brenda  by  talking  about  the  Ger- 
mans with  the  dogmatism  bred  of  complete  ignorance. 
He  saw  everything  from  their  point  of  view,  and 
when  a  submarine  torpedoed  a  hospital  ship  dwelt 
on  the  courage  required  by  a  submarine  crew.  Brenda 
wondered  if  he  would  admire  the  commander  of  an 
airship  that  dropped  a  bomb  on  his  rectory.  She 
wondered  also  how  his  brother  and  Andrew  would 
bear  with  him  when  they  came  back  to  his  sophistries 
from  the  realities  of  war.  However,  he  only  stayed 
two  days,  and  before  he  left  gave  Brenda  a  warm 
invitation  to  visit  them  again  in  Cornwall.  He  told  her 
that  at  Treva  she  need  not  remember  that  there  was 
a  war.  She  looked  at  him  in  amazement  and  won- 
dered whether  his  wife  did  not  find  such  serene 
detachment  trying;  but  she  promised  to  go  to  Treva 
in  time  for  the  daffodils  next  spring. 

When  Jem  left  for  the  front  again  his  parents  and 
Brenda  as  well  as  Violet  went  to  Waterloo  to  see  him 
off;  but  Brenda  was  on  duty  from  three  to  nine  at  a 
canteen  that  night  and  so  arrived  at  the  station  by 
herself.  She  did  not  know  it  well  and  began  by  driv- 
ing to  the  wrong  entrance.  Then  she  found  herself 
near  the  Loop  platforms  under  the  clock  and  in  a  dense 
crc'>d  of  people  coming  from  suburban  trains  or 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  293 

waiting  for  them.  She  made  her  way  through  this 
crowd  towards  an  official  taking  tickets  at  one  of  the 
gates  with  the  intention  of  asking  him  about  the  troop 
train  to  Southampton,  but  as  she  was  before  her  time 
she  did  not  hurry.  She  looked,  as  every  one  else  in 
England  was  looking  then,  at  the  younger  men  in  the 
crowd,  wondering  which  of  them  ought  to  be  in  khaki 
and  which  had  good  reason  to  be  here;  and  as  she 
looked  she  saw  a  tall  figure  and  a  dark  long  coat  of 
foreign  cut  that  were  both  familiar.  London,  to  be 
sure,  was  full  of  foreigners.  Wherever  you  went  you 
heard  French  and  Flemish  spoken.  But  above  the 
collar  of  this  coat  she  saw  a  German  neck,  bull-like, 
and  red.  The  shoulders,  too,  had  a  military  set. 
Brenda  was  hindered  by  the  press  of  people  just  here, 
but  managed  soon  to  get  on  a  little  way  and  look  at 
the  profile  of  this  man,  who  stood  a  head  and  shoulders 
above  his  neighbors.  It  was  Lothar. 

Her  first  thought  was  that  he  had  just  arrived  and 
wanted  to  see  her.  She  did  not  stop  to  reason  why, 
but  got  a  little  closer  to  him  with  every  shift  of  the 
crowd,  and  at  last  came  close  enough  to  touch  his 
elbow.  He  looked  round  hastily,  saw  Brenda,  saw 
her  with  recognition,  received  a  disagreeable  shock, 
pulled  himself  together,  and  as  if  she  were  a  stranger, 
turned  his  head  away.  At  the  moment  Brenda  did 
not  grasp  what  he  was  after.  She  had  seen  that  he 
knew  her,  and  that  the  sudden  sight  of  her  was  hate- 
ful to  him;  so  her  impulse  was  to  leave  him.  But 
why  was  he  in  England  again,  when  had  he  come, 
when  would  he  go  away?  She  stood  there  unde- 
cidedly, then  followed  him  to  the  gate  of  the  nearest 
platform,  where  he  gave  up  a  ticket.  She  was  asked 
for  hers  and  had  none. 

"I  am  seeing  this  gentleman  off,"  she  said  audibly, 
and  the  ticket  collector  let  her  through.  Lothar  took 
no  notice  of  her,  and  walked  along  the  train  so  quickly 
that  if  he  had  not  been  tall  she  would  probably  have 


294  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

missed  him;  for  the  platform  was  rather  crowded. 
But  she  ran  him  to  earth  in  a  third-class  carriage, 
full  up  with  people,  and  then  she  perceived  that  he 
did  not  mean  to  recognize  her.  He  sat  in  a  far  corner 
and  stared  out  of  his  own  window,  refusing  to  meet 
her  eyes.  Brenda  was  just  going  away  when  a  move- 
ment within  the  carriage  made  her  change  her  mind. 
A  woman  sitting  next  to  Lothar  got  out,  so  Brenda 
on  a  sudden  impulse  got  in,  sat  down  and  spoke  to 
him. 

"Why  are  you  in  England,  Lothar?"  she  said  in 
a  low  voice,  as  she  studied  his  face  curiously,  as  sure 
of  his  identity  as  of  her  own,  but  dismayed  by  the 
stony  hardness  in  his  eyes  and  the  fury  in  his  voice 
when  he  answered  her,  aloud,  so  every  one  else  in  the 
carriage  could  hear  him. 

"I  do  not  know  why  you  have  followed  me,"  he 
said,  "you  are  making  a  mistake.  I  am  an  American." 

Brenda  got  up,  hot  with  humiliation  and  uncertain 
what  to  do.  Perhaps  she  ought  to  have  denounced 
him  then  and  there,  given  him  up  to  the  police  and 
confronted  his  denials  and  his  forged  papers  with 
her  evidence  of  his  identity.  If  she  could  have  felt 
sure  that  he  was  dangerous  she  thought  later  that 
she  would  have  done  so.  But  at  any  rate  she  did 
not.  She  fled  from  the  stares  of  the  people  traveling 
with  Lothar,  arrived  on  the  platform  for  Southampton 
in  a  state  of  distressed  agitation,  found  Jem  sur- 
rounded by  a  little  group  of  friends  and  blurted  out 
what  had  just  happened. 

"Lothar  is  in  England  again,"  she  cried.  "I  have 
seen  him  and  spoken  to  him.  He  pretended  not  to 
know  me." 

"He  pretended  not  to  know  you!"  echoed  Mr. 
Miiller  incredulously. 

No  one  else  paid  attention  to  what  she  said,  for  her 
encounter  with  Lothar  had  delayed  her,  and  she  had 
only  arrived  just  in  time  to  bid  Jem  good-bye.  He 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  295 

kissed  his  mother  and  her  and  then  his  wife.  The 
guard  whistled,  the  train  began  to  move,  the  men 
looking  out  of  the  window  and  those  they  left  behind 
exchanged  last  glances  and  last  words.  Violet  cried 
quietly  and  bitterly.  The  air  seemed  heavy  with 
sorrow  and  farewells,  and  to  come  out  of  the  station 
into  the  ordinary  traffic  of  York  Road  was  like  leaving 
a  solemn  celebration  for  a  market-place.  Mrs.  Miiller 
tried  to  persuade  Violet  to  go  back  to  St.  John's  Wood 
with  them  for  the  night,  but  she  said  that  she  would 
rather  go  straight  home.  The  Miillers  had  lent  their 
car  and  their  chauffeur  to  the  Red  Cross,  so  they  put 
Violet  into  a  taxi  and  returned  with  Brenda  by  tube. 
When  they  reached  Piccadilly  Circus  the.  station  was 
seen  to  be  packed  with  people,  who  stormed  into  the 
carriages,  some  of  them  cool,  some  terror-stricken, 
some  looking  as  if  they  had  been  exhilarated  but  were 
not  in  the  least  afraid.  From  one  to  the  other  the 
word  went  that  the  Zeppelins  were  over  London,  and 
had  blown  up  Liverpool  Street  station,  killing  people 
horribly  and  in  great  numbers.  Close  to  Brenda  were 
some  girls  she  judged  to  be  from  a  chorus  or  a  ballet, 
for  their  faces  were  still  made  up  and  yet  ashen  with 
fright,  their  clothes  were  huddled  on  anyhow  and  two 
of  them  were  crying  hysterically.  The  carriage  was 
so  packed  that  it  was  not  easy  to  move,  but  Brenda 
managed  to  get  one  girl,  who  was  trembling  violently, 
into  her  own  seat,  and  then  the  others  told  her  as 
well  as  they  could  what  had  happened.  There  had 
been  a  deafening  crash  followed  by  the  sound  of  guns, 
and  then  again  the  crash  of  bombs.  The  girls  had 
rushed  from  the  stage,  the  curtain  had  been  let  down, 
the  performance  had  ended  there  and  then.  But 
there  had  been  no  further  panic  either  in  front  of 
the  curtain  or  behind  it.  The  manager  had  made  a 
little  speech  informing  the  audience  that  an  air  raid 
was  going  on  and  that  they  had  better  stay  where 
they  were,  the  lights  were  kept  burning,  every  one 


296  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

attended  to  his  business  and  the  theater  was  quietly 
cleared.  Even  the  girls  who  were  still  crying  with 
fright  said  that  they  meant  to  go  back  to-morrow. 
The  others  were  talking  of  some  "fellows"  who  had 
not  joined  yet.  They  should  now  or  the  girls  would 
know  the  reason  why.  "A  lot  o'  .  .  .  murderers," 
growled  a  navvy  near  them — "I'm  going  to-morrer." 
On  every  face,  on  all  lips  there  was  implacable  cold 
anger  not  to  be  assuaged  while  living  generations 
remembered  and  had  blood  in  their  veins. 

When  the  Miillers  got  above  ground  again  every- 
thing was  in  darkness,  but  they  groped  their  way 
home  and  found  the  maids  at  the  front  door  in  various 
stages  of  undress  and  greatly  excited.  They  had  seen 
a  Zeppelin  and  the  glow  in  the  sky  from  the  bursting 
shrapnel  fired  at  it,  and  they  had  heard  the  anti-air- 
craft guns  in  the  distance.  They  seemed  rather  dis- 
appointed when  they  were  told  that  London  was  not 
burning  in  every  quarter,  and  decidedly  annoyed  when 
they  were  told  that  the  raid  was  over  and  they  could 
go  to  bed.  "I  shall  certainly  sleep  in  my  boots,"  the 
kitchenmaid  was  heard  to  say  as  she  followed  the 
cook. 

The  Miillers  felt  anxious  about  Violet,  but  decided 
that  nothing  could  or  need  be  done  for  her  that  night 
as  all  the  reports  they  had  heard  on  the  way  here  were 
of  damage  in  the  city  and  in  distant  suburbs.  Mrs. 
Miiller  said  that  next  day  she  meant  to  do  her  best 
to  persuade  Violet  to  take  the  children  to  Cornwall  till 
the  war  was  over.  Brenda  said  nothing,  but  felt  sure 
that  Violet  would  not  want  to  go  so  far  in  case  she 
was  suddenly  called  to  France. 

"What  is  this  about  your  seeing  Lothar?"  asked 
Mr.  Miiller,  as  if  he  had  just  remembered  his 
daughter's  story ;  and  Brenda  told  him  again  that  she 
had  seen  Lothar  in  mufti  at  Waterloo  and  that  he  had 
pretended  not  to  know  her. 

"You  are  quite  sure,  I  suppose  ?" 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  297 

"Gustav !"  cried  Mrs.  Miiller.  "How  is  it  possible 
for  a  wife  not  to  know  her  husband?" 

"There  have  been  cases.  There  was  one  quite  lately 
in  the  papers." 

"Papers  will  say  anything,"  opined  Mrs.  Miiller. 
"If  a  woman  told  me  she  did  not  know  her  own  hus- 
band, T  should  know  she  was  either  a  fool  or  a  liar. 
Brenda  is  neither." 

"But  what  is  he  doing  in  England?"  asked  Mr. 
Miiller,  and  he  went  to  bed  still  asking  himself  a  ques- 
tion neither  his  wife  nor  his  daughter  had  tried  to 
answer.  But  they  were  asking  it  of  themselves  un- 
easily and  with  suspicion.  What  was  Lothar  doing 
at  large  in  England  and  why  had  he  refused  to  recog- 
nize Brenda?  All  through  the  following  day  the 
two  women  brooded  over  Brenda's  encounter  with  her 
husband  and  failed  to  •  find  any  innocent  reason  for 
his  presence  in  London;  but  they  did  not  open  their 
minds  to  each  other,  partly  because  Violet  was  with 
them  most  of  the  day.  She  came  to  tell  them  that 
she  was  sending  her  children  to  Cornwall.  In  last 
night's  raid  some  children  had  been  killed  outright 
and  some  burned  and  mutilated.  She  would  not  let 
her  children  run  the  risk  any  longer,  but  she  would 
not  go  with  them.  As  Brenda  expected  she  wanted 
to  remain  in  London  because  it  was  nearer  to  Jem. 
So  it  was  settled  that  Jem's  house  should  be  shut  up 
at  present  and  Violet  be  with  the  Mullers. 

"I  shall  like  it,"  she  said,  "the  evenings  are  so 
lonely." 

"Were  you  much  frightened  last  night?"  asked  Mrs. 
Miiller. 

"No,"  Violet  said.  She  had  not  been  much  fright- 
ened, though  she  had  seen  a  Zeppelin  apparently  right 
over  the  house.  She  had  not  even  waked  the  children 
and  carried  them  into  the  cellar  as  her  neighbors  had 
done.  The  chances  were  so  enormously  against  any 
one  house  being  hit  that  it  seemed  best  to  take  them 


298  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

without  unnecessary  worry.  Jem  was  probably  in 
greater  danger  morning,  noon  and  night. 

"We  shall  hear  what  has  really  happened  in  the 
city  when  father  comes  home,"  said  Brenda,  and  di- 
rectly they  heard  his  key  in  the  latch  the  three  women 
went  into  the  hall  to  meet  him.  He  looked  preoccupied 
and  unusually  grave;  and  after  giving  them  the 
information  they  sought  about  the  damage  done  in 
the  city,  he  made  a  sign  to  his  wife  to  come  with 
him  and  took  her  upstairs  to  their  own  room. 

"I  am  not  going  to  tell  Brenda,"  he  said,  "it  would 
only  distress  her  and  there  may  be  no  need.  I  have 
been  to  Scotland  Yard." 

"About  Lothar?" 

"Yes.  How  do  we  know  what  mischief  he  is  in? 
It  was  my  duty.  You  see  it,  Marie,  don't  you?" 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"I  gave  his  real  name  and  status  in  the  German 
Army  and  a  description  of  him;  and  I  told  them  that 
he  was  probably  traveling  as  an  American  with  a 
forged  or  stolen  passport." 

"If  they  find  him  they  will  shoot  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Miiller  dully. 

"Not  unless  he  deserves  it,"  said  her  husband. 


XXVII 

THE  days  succeeding  the  raid  were  busy  ones, 
for  Violet  kept  to  her  plan  of  sending  the  chil- 
dren to  Cornwall,  and  Brenda  spent  most  of  her 
time  at  the  house  helping  her  to  make  the  necessary 
arrangements  and  pack  up.  One  morning,  to  her 
surprise,  Brenda  received  a  long  letter  from  Siegmund 
Abel,  which  had  come  by  way  of  New  York  and  gave 
her  news  of  people  in  Berlin.  It  was  the  first  time 
she  had  heard  from  any  one  there  since  she  had  left 
Brussels,  and  she  had  often  wondered  how  the  family 
was  getting  on,  what  August  was  saying  now,  and 
whether  they v were  all  nearly  starving  or  living  in  the 
lap  of  luxury.  If  you  read  what  well-informed  neu- 
trals said  in  various  English  papers,  you  could  believe 
either  extreme  according  to  your  bias.  Brenda  had  no 
bias  except  towards  the  truth  whichever  way  it  lay, 
and  in  some  respects  Siegmund's  letter  was  illuminat- 
ing. He  hardly  spoke  of  the  war.  That  was  not  to  be 
expected  perhaps  since  he  was  writing  to  England. 
But  he  told  her  that  life  was  very  expensive  now,  and 
that  amongst  the  poor  there  was  great  suffering. 
Papa  and  Mamma  were  both  well,  but  extremely 
anxious  about  Lothar,  who  had  not  written  for  more 
than  six  weeks.  They  knew  that  he  was  not  in  Brus- 
sels because  the  beautiful  Jutta,  who  was  now  a 
widow,  had  come  back  to  Berlin  and  said  so.  In  fact 
she  had  informed  Elsa  that  Lothar  was  away  on  Gov- 
ernment service,  but  he  had  not  told  even  her  where  he 

299 


300  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

was  going  or  what  he  had  to  do.  He  had  left  suddenly, 
and  had  not  written  since  he  left,  so  that  she,  too, 
did  not  know  whether  he  was  dead  or  alive.  If  Brenda 
knew  anything  of  Lothar's  whereabouts  Siegmund 
begged  her  to  write  at  once  and  relieve  his  parents' 
anxiety.  If  she  sent  her  letter  to  an  address  he  gave 
in  Holland  it  would  be  safely  forwarded.  The  rest 
of  the  family  were  well  and  August  was  giving  a 
course  of  popular  lectures  on  England  as  a  World- 
Power,  her  Crimes  and  her  Downfall.  He  had  told 
Siegmund  that  he  meant  to  spend  the  money  he  got  by 
the  lectures  on  going  to  London  in  time  to  watch  the 
triumphant  march  of  Hindenburg  and  the  German 
troops  through  the  accursed  city,  and  he  wished  he 
could  fix  the  date  and  know  whether  he  would  require 
summer  or  winter  clothing.  He  had  shown  consider- 
able annoyance  when  Siegmund  had  observed  that  it 
would  be  time  to  choose  the  clothes  when  the  English 
Navy  was  beaten,  and  had  said  that  he  took  any  such 
allusion  to  that  cowardly  arm  as  an  affront  to  the 
Fatherland  and  himself.  Berlin  and  Hamburg  were  the 
best  informed  as  they  were  the  most  refined  cities  in 
the  world,  and  they  knew  that  the  abominable  British 
Navy  was  hiding  and  afraid  to  come  out.  It  was 
abominable  because  it  was  lending  itself  to  the  starva- 
tion of  German  women  and  children,  who,  however, 
were  not  starving  at  all,  but,  thanks  to  the  matchless 
foresight  and  organization  of  their  rulers,  were  living 
on  the  fat  of  their  own  all-that-is-necessary-to-life- 
producing  land.  The  lectures  were  extremely  popular, 
Siegmund  said,  and  he  thought  that  it  was  because 
August  did  not  write  them  but  just  talked  to  his 
audience  in  his  own  vein,  and  always  told  them  that 
they  were  victorious.  Mina  was  as  usual  overworked, 
but  contented  with  her  fate;  and  Elsa  was  a  proud 
woman  because  she  had  invented  a  winter  game  that 
was  going  to  be  as  popular  as  knocking  nails  into 
Hindenburg's  statue  had  been  all  the  summer.  She 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  301 

had  had  a  large  wax  figure  of  Sir  Edward  Grey  made, 
and  every  one  was  going  to  knock  nails  into  that,  at  a 
price  of  course.  Elsa  thought  that  it  would  be  a 
more  agreeable  sensation  to  drive  a  nail  into  the  traitor 
Grey  than  into  their  adored  and  invincible  Field 
Marshal,  and  moreover  wax  would  melt.  When  the 
company  had  tired  of  nails  it  should  have  lighted  ves- 
tas, and  burn  their  enemy  as  witches  used  to  burn 
a  rival.  Siegmund  hoped  there  would  be  no  acci- 
dents, and  meant  to  have  some  pails  of  water  at 
hand. 

"He  is  laughing  at  them  all,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller 
when  she  read  the  letter. 

"He  always  did,"  said  Brenda.  "He  was  ironical 
and  sad  and  clever.  They  called  him  'The  Jew,'  and 
did  not  understand  him  a  bit.  But  what  am  I  to  write 
about  Lothar?" 

"Perhaps  they  would  be  glad  to  hear  that  you  had 
seen  him  alive  and  well,  even  if  you  could  say  nothing 
else,"  suggested  Mrs.  Miiller;  so  Brenda  wrote  to 
Siegmund  at  once  and  told  him  that  she  had  seen 
Lothar  lately,  but  that  he  had  not  spoken  to  her. 
She  did  not  say  that  he  had  pretended  not  to  recognize 
her.  But  she  did  tell  Siegmund  that  she  was  not  likely 
to  return  to  Berlin  after  the  war,  and  that  Lothar 
wished  for  a  divorce.  She  knew  that  his  parents 
would  be  as  averse  from  such  a  scandal  as  her  own 
mother  was,  and  considering  the  uncertainties  of  war 
she  half  wished,  after  she  had  sent  the  letter,  that  she 
had  left  these  things  unsaid.  Perhaps  she  had  been 
indiscreet,  but  the  picture  of  Jutta,  a  widow  and  well 
received  by  Lothar's  family,  had  roused  Brenda  and 
angered  her.  Jutta  was  an  immoral  woman  and  Lo- 
thar's people,  who  considered  their  morals  exemplary, 
received  her.  They  had  cast  off  Brenda  and  opened 
their  arms  to  Jutta,  and  yet  Brenda  knew  they  would 
not  wish  Lothar  to  appear  in  a  divorce  court.  They 
WQul4  wish  her  to.  return  to  Berlin  when  English. 


302  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

people  were  no  longer  dangerous  and  assist  them  to 
cover  up  a  scandal.  That  Brenda  was  determined  not 
to  do. 

Violet  took  the  children  to  Cornwall  herself,  but 
only  stayed  in  her  old  home  a  day  or  two,  and  then 
returned  for  an  indefinite  time  to  the  Avenue  Road. 
Brenda  liked  having  her.  Their  schoolgirl  friendship 
had  grown  into  a  deep  affection  into  which  life  had 
woven  various  threads.  Sometimes  Violet  reminded 
Brenda  strongly  of  Andrew,  sometimes  she  saw  little 
resemblance  between  them;  but  their  thoughts  and 
hopes  and  fears  were  bound  up  with  him  and  with 
Jem.  They  sat  together  a  good  deal  in  Brenda's 
room,  and  they  worked  together  at  garments  for  the 
troops.  In  time  Violet  heard  a  good  deal  more  than 
she  had  known  before  about  Brenda's  marriage  and 
about  her  miserable  time  in  Brussels.  At  least  she 
heard  of  events  and  entertainments  and  little  adven- 
tures. Of  what  lay  underneath,  of  all  Brenda  had  felt 
and  suffered  and  of  Lothar's  unfaithfulness  she  heard 
nothing.  Brenda's  nature  was  not  secretive,  but 
throughout  her  married  life  she  had  undergone  humil- 
iations of  which  she  could  not  speak.  When  she  heard 
and  read  of  what  the  German  soldiery  were  doing  in 
the  homes  they  desecrated  she  thought  that  though 
her  body  had  not  been  pierced  by  bayonets  she  knew 
both  in  body  and  soul  what  it  meant  to  be  the  victim 
of  coarse  unscrupulous  brutality:  and  when  she  read 
extracts  from  German  papers  impudently  denying  and 
defending  the  Belgian  massacres  she  thought  that  the 
pressmen  who  wrote  the  articles  must  be  blood  brothers 
of  the  beautiful  Jutta,  who  had  gone  with  a  pleasure 
party  to  Louvain  and  shrugged  her  shoulders  over 
the  wanton  slaughter  of  the  innocent,  saying,  "This 
is  war!" 

It  came  like  a  break  in  the  quiet  life  they  were  lead- 
ing when  one  day  towards  the  middle  of  October 
Violet  received  an  invitation  by  post  to  dine  and  go 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  303 

to  the  theater  with  some  Cornish  friends  who  were 
spending  a  week  in  London.  At  first  Violet  was 
inclined  to  refuse.  Suppose  a  telegram  came  while 
she  was  away?  As  Jem  was  known  to  be  out  of 
action  and  resting  just  then  she  was  not  allowed  to 
suppose  anything  that  would  interfere  with  her  even- 
ing's pleasure,  and  she  departed  cheerfully  in  a  taxi, 
looking  so  pretty  that  Brenda  wished  Jem  had  been 
there  to  see  her.  She  herself  spent  most  of  the  evening 
at  the  piano  playing  Beethoven  to  her  father  and 
finding  that  her  spirit  was  uplifted  and  soothed  by 
his  harmonies;  for  the  cry  raised  in  some  quarters 
against  German  music  and  poetry  seemed  to  her  un- 
speakably mean  and  silly,  worthy  of  August  but  not 
of  the  English  who  were  all  to  rise  to  their  country's 
greatness  and  be  paladins.  The  message  of  the 
Appassionata  had  not  changed  and  every  line  of  Faust 
reached  heights  .  .  . 

It  ail  happened  in  a  moment  before  the  chord  on 
which  her  fingers  rested  could  be  finished.  The  crash 
of  bombs,  the  answering  guns,  the  startled  cry  from 
her  mother  and  the  irruption  into  the  room  of  scared 
servants,  crying  that  the  Zeppelins  were  right  over  the 
house  and  that  every  one  was  going  to  be  murdered, 
Mr.  Miiller's  voice  quieting  them,  their  helter-skelter 
rush  to  the  cellar  and  Brenda  left  with  her  parents 
to  put  lights  out  before  they  dared  to  look  and 
listen. 

"They  may  have  passed  over  the  house,  but  they 
are  a  long  way  off  now,"  said  Mr.  Miiller,  for  there 
was  nothing  to  be  seen  from  the  front  door  but  a 
special  constable  valiantly  swarming  up  a  lamp-post 
opposite  the  house  in  order  to  put  out  the  light. 

"They  may  come  back  this  way,"  said  Mrs.  Miiller. 

"I  wonder  where  they  are?"  said  Brenda,  and  she 
ran  across  the  road  to  ask  the  man  now  come  to  earth 
again  if  he  could  judge  where  the  attack  was  being 
made.  They  heard  crash  upon  crash  as  they  stood 


304  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

there,  and  the  irregular  splutter  of  guns.  The  sky 
even  out  here  was  lighter  with  red  flashes  and  Brenda 
thought  of  Violet  gone  gayly  into  horror  unimagin- 
able. For  the  constable  said  that  the  death  ships 
were  over  the  Strand. 

More  than  an  hour  passed  with  sickening  slowness, 
only  broken  by  shrieks  from  the  kitchen  when  the 
whirr  of  machinery  passed  over  the  road  again  about 
half-past  ten.  Mrs.  Muller  with  her  usual  calmness 
went  downstairs  to  reassure  the  scared  servants  and 
persuade  them  to  go  to  bed.  Brenda  felt  restless  but 
not  afraid.  Her  own  wish  and  impulse  had  been  to 
rush  to  the  theater,  find  Violet  and  bring  her  away; 
but  her  father  would  do  no  such  thing,  and  presently 
she  was  glad  that  she  had  not  gone,  for  Violet  arrived, 
rather  white  and  shaken  but  uninjured. 

"We  stayed  till  the  end,"  she  said,  "we've  all 
behaved  very  well.  The'  first  bomb  fell  close  to  us 
with  the  most  horrible  crash.  The  whole  theater 
rocked  and  the  great  central  chandelier  swung  to  and 
fro.  The  chorus  girls  rushed  off  the  stage  and  so  did 
every  one  else.  The  pit  was  just  going  to  stampede; 
I  felt  awful  but  I  didn't  move.  Colonel  Godolphin 
said  to  his  wife  and  me  'Sit  still/  and  then  he  and 
another  officer  got  up  and  shouted  to  the  people  in 
the  pit  for  God's  sake  to  sit  still,  because  they  were 
safer  there  than  in  the  street.  They  managed  to 
calm  them,  and  one  little  actor  ...  I  don't  know 
his  name  but  he  was  some  brave  ...  he  came  back 
and  danced  a  frantic  dance.  That  steadied  every  one, 
and  gradually  the  other  actors  came  back  and  played 
to  the  finish.  And  all  the  while  we  could  hear  the 
guns  and  those  horrible  bombs,  and  when  we  got  into 
the  street  the  pavements  were  inches  thick  in  broken 
glass.  We  saw  ambulances  carrying  dead  and 
wounded.  A  great  many  children  have  been  hurt  and 
killed  again,  so  I  suppose  the  children  in  Germany  will 
have  a  holiday.  Oh!  and  a  German  spy  was  caught 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  305 

red-handed  signaling  from  the  roof  of  a  warehouse  in 
the  City." 

"Is  it  known  yet  W7hat  damage  was  done?"  asked 
Mr.  Miiller. 

"We  only  heard  people  talking  as  we  waited  for  a 
taxi.  They  said  that  Wood  Street  was  in  flames, 
and  that  a  great  many  people  were  killed  near  Liver- 
pool Street.  Some  were  killed  close  to  us  too." 

Violet  shuddered  and  hesitated. 

"As  we  went  to  our  taxi  Colonel  Godolphin  kicked 
a  boot  aside,"  she  said.  "He  started  so  violently  that 
I  looked.  There  was  a  foot  in  it  and  blood. 
That  was  the  worst  thing  of  all.  I  can't  forget 
it" 

Brenda's  thoughts  went  back  to  the  man  she  had 
seen  lying  limp  and  crumpled  in  the  German  railway 
carriage,  and  to  the  horrors  committed  in  Belgium. 
The  people  who  were  too  fine  and  sensitive  to  hear  of 
what  others  had  suffered  always  reminded  her  of  Hot- 
cpur's  knight  with  his  pouncet  box,  and  yet  she  had 
heard  stories  she  could  not  tell  because  the  abomina- 
tions of  them,  though  it  haunted  her  dreams,  refused 
to  pass  her  lips.  Was  it  best  to  put  them  out  of  her 
mind  as  well  as  she  could  since  she  could  neither  mend 
nor  atone;  or  by  remembering  keep  alive  the  just 
wrath  that  demands  penitence  as  the  price  of  pardon? 
She  had  a  growing  horror  of  those  cranks  always  to 
be  found  in  England  and  America  who  want  to  treat 
tigers  as  if  they  were  doves  and  who  exalt  the  butcher 
but  forget  the  victim. 

"I  can  never  go  back  to  Germany,"  she  said  to  her 
mother  next  day.  "I  can  never  live  amongst  people 
who  have  done  these  things." 

Mrs.  Miiller  sighed  and  said  that  she  was  beginning 
to  think  herself  that  henceforward  no  one  with  English 
sympathies  would  be  happy  in  Berlin.  This  was  a 
considerable  concession,  and  as,  in  spite  of  her  hide- 
bound opinions  about  marriage,  she  treated  Brenda 


306  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

with  unfailing  affection  and  kindness  there  seemed  no 
reason  to  disturb  her  again  by  hinting  at  divorce. 
In  fact  Brenda  began  to  look  forward  to  a  prolonga- 
tion of  her  present  life  and  a  separation  from  Lothar 
that  did  not  drag  their  marriage  through  the  mire  and 
publicity  of  courts  of  law.  She  had  not  heard  from 
Berlin  again.  But  one  morning  the  post  brought  bad 
news  to  Violet  from  Jem.  Her  uncle,  Major  Lovel, 
had  been  killed  instantaneously  by  a  trench  mortar 
that  exploded  close  to  him.  He  was  killed  and  Andrew 
was  wounded.  Jem  who  had  been  with  them  five 
minutes  earlier  had  escaped.  His  letter  describing  the 
circumstances  of  Major  Level's  death  and  the  ex- 
tent of  the  damage  done  to  Andrew  was  to  be  sent 
or  taken  to  Cornwall  as  Violet  thought  best.  Jem 
thought  that  Andrew  might  lose  an  arm  but  that 
otherwise  he  had  a  good  chance  of  recovery.  At  least 
so  the  regimental  doctor  said.  He  was  now  in  a 
hospital  at  Rouen. 

Major  Lovel  dead,  Andrew  seriously  wounded  and 
Violet  off  to  Cornwall  at  a  moment's  notice  to  see 
her  parents  and  the  children.  From  one  hour  to  the 
next  you  lived,  not  knowing  in  the  morning  what  the 
day  would  bring  forth.  Brenda's  thoughts  and 
anxieties  were  all  in  the  hospital  at  Rouen  as  she 
came  back  from  Paddington  after  seeing  Violet  off, 
and  it  was  with  presage  of  worse  news  from  France 
that  she  saw  her  father  come  out  of  the  library  when 
he  heard  her  voice  in  the  hall  on  her  return.  It  was 
nearly  lunch  time,  for  on  her  way  back  she  had  been 
to  see  some  one  in  connection  with  her  work  at  the 
canteen.  But  her  father  had  gone  to  the  city  after 
breakfast  as  usual  this  morning.  He  never  came 
back  to  lunch.  He  looked  .  .  .  Oh!  Brenda  knew 
that  something  terrible  had  happened  the  moment  she 
saw  him,  and  there  was  no  need  for  him  to  beckon  to 
her.  As  she  saw  him  she  was  with  him  and  inside  the 
room.  Then  she  saw  that  her  mother  was  there  too 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  307 

and  that  she  looked  as  white  as  a  sheet.  Jem! 
Andrew!  She  did  not  think  of  Lothar.  Her  eyes 
searched  for  the  fatal  telegram  and  found  none. 
Neither  letter  nor  telegram  was  there.  Only  her 
father  and  mother  visibly  shaken  and  distressed.  Her 
mother  was  crying. 

"Brenda,  we  have  bad  news,"  her  father  said,  and 
she  heard  that  he  spoke  with  difficulty,  as  a  man  does 
who  has  had  a  shock. 

"It  is  Lothar,"  said  her  mother  quickly,  watching 
her  child's  face. 

"Lothar!" 

"He  was  caught  on  the  top  of  a  hotel  during  the 
last  raid  and  taken  to  the  Tower." 

"To  the  Tower!" 

"He  was  tried  by  court-martial." 

Brenda  had  seen  the  paper  that  day.  She  knew 
what  was  coming. 

"He  was  shot  this  morning,"  said  her  father. 

Brenda  did  not  faint  or  cry.  She  stood  there  look- 
ing so  stunned  and  horror-stricken  that  her  parents 
felt  more  alarmed  than  if  she  had  fainted.  She 
hardly  gave  a  sign  of  having  understood  them  and 
yet  they  knew  that  she  did  understand.  Mr.  Miiller 
put  her  into  a  chair  because  she  staggered  slightly 
and  he  feared  she  might  fall.  Then  he  went  on 
speaking. 

"He  gave  the  authorities  a  false  name  and  address," 
he  said.  "He  gave  the  name  on  his  forged  passport 
describing  him  as  an  American.  It  was  only  this 
morning  that  he  wrote  down  my  business  address  and 
told  thi°m  to  communicate  with  us.  They  say  that  he 
wrote  two  letters  to  Germany  yesterday." 

"He  sent  me  no  message." 

"None  whatever." 

"I  suppose  there  is  no  doubt,"  said  Brenda,  whose 
mind  was  trying  to  grope  for  possibilities  amidst  this 
new  horror.  "Are  you  sure  that  it  was  Lothar," 


308  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"I  went  to  the  Tower,"  said  Mr.  Muller.  "They 
allowed  me  to  see  him." 

"How  are  we  to  tell  his  mother?"  cried  Brenda. 
"She  loved  him." 

"He  wrote  to  his  mother,"  said  Mr.  Muller.  "He 
wrote  to  her  and  to  a  Frau  Prassler.  The  letters  had 
not  been  posted,  and  I  saw  the  addresses.  He  died 
cursing  England." 


xxvni 

BRENDA  wrote  to  Berlin  and  in  time  she  received 
answers  from  Little  Mamma  and  from  Siegmund 
Abel.  Little  Mamma's  letter  was  valedictory. 
Without  beating  about  the  bush  she  said  that  she 
never  wished  to  see  her  daughter-in-law  again.  She 
did  not  exactly  hold  her  responsible  for  Lothar's 
death;  in  fact,  she  admitted  that  he  had  said  in  his 
farewell  letter  that  he  had  had  a  fair  trial.  What  she 
could  not  understand  was  that  Mr.  Miiller  had  not 
used  his  influence,  and  if  necessary  his  fortune,  to 
save  his  nephew's  life.  It  was  well  known  in  Germany 
that  in  England  anything  could  be  got  for  money. 
She  understood  that  the  Miillers  excused  themselves 
by  saying  that  they  had  not  even  known  of  Lothar's 
arrest,  but  did  not  that  show  how  indifferent  his  wife 
was  to  his  welfare?  Why  had  Brenda  not  been  with 
her  husband  in  the  hour  of  trial  and  danger.  Little 
Mamma's  idea  of  marriage  was  an  exalted  one,  and 
her  grief  over  the  loss  of  her  beloved  son  was  height- 
ened and  embittered  by  every  memory  of  his  miserable 
union.  Brenda  must  pardon  her  for  speaking  plainly. 
That  was  her  German  way.  As  for  the  furniture  and 
silver  in  Lothar's  flat,  that  would  be  sold  for  the 
benefit  of  his  family.  It  was  useless  for  Brenda  to 
claim  it  now  she  had  become  an  enemy  alien. 

"What  is  the  law  about  that?"  asked  Brenda, 
when  she  had  shown  her  father  the  letter. 

"The  Germans  are  very  high-handed.  They  con- 
fiscate property  in  a  way  we  don't,"  said  Mr.  Miiller. 

309 


310  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

"We  can  do  nothing  till  after  the  war,  and  by  that 
time  they  will  have  sold  everything." 

Brenda  did  not  care.  She  thought  with  mild  regret 
of  some  things  in  Berlin  that  had  been  given  her  at 
her  marriage,  and  of  music  books  and  pictures  that 
had  been  her  personal  possessions  throughout  her  life; 
but  what  place  did  such  losses  take  in  these  days  of 
widespread  loss  and  mourning?  What  did  books  and 
pictures  matter  while  Thekla  wept  for  Jack  and 
Mundy's  young  widow  arrived  from  Egypt  with  her 
children,  looking  like  the  pale  ghost  of  the  girl  he 
had  married  a  few  years  ago.  Brenda  was  busier  than 
she  had  ever  been  before,  helping  her  sister  and  her 
sister-in-law  to  begin  life  again  in  new  surroundings; 
for  Thekla  left  Aldershot,  and  Mundy's  widow,  who 
had  few  relatives  in  England,  settled  down  near  her 
husband's  family  and  became  greatly  attached  to 
them.  It  was  good  for  Brenda  to  be  occupied  with 
children  and  furniture  for  some  months  and  to  find 
herself  beloved  and  wanted  in  two  small  new  house- 
holds. The  failure  of  her  marriage  and  the  tragedy 
of  Lothar's  death  were  fresh  in  her  memory.  Any  one 
could  see  that  in  her  face  and  her  sad  eyes.  But  the 
crowded  business  of  each  day  kept  her  from  brooding 
and  she  found  great  comfort  in  all  she  could  do  for 
others.  One  day,  quite  unexpectedly,  the  little  Belgian 
from  Brussels  arrived  and  was  installed  with  Thekla 
as  cook.  She  told  Brenda  that  the  beautiful  Jutta 
had  had  the  whole  contents  of  the  flat  packed  in 
furniture  vans  and  sent  to  Berlin.  She  had  then  oc- 
cupied another  flat  left  empty  by  its  owners,  and  had 
lived  there  with  Lothar  until  the  end  of  last  Septem- 
ber, when  she  suddenly  returned  to  Germany.  Sieg- 
mund  Abel  had  not  mentioned  her  when  he  wrote, 
but  at  Christmas  Brenda  had  a  letter  from  Elsa  who 
said  amongst  other  things  that  the  beautiful  Jutta  was 
about  to  marry  again,  although  her  husband  had  not 
been  dead  a  year.  She  had  netted  an  Austrian  Graf 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  311 

this  time,  and  gave  herself  insufferable  airs;  but  every 
one  knew  that  her  position  in  Viennese  society  would 
be  difficult  because  in  Vienna  birth  and  blood  are 
of  extreme  importance  even  after  marriage.  Jutta 
might  marry  twenty  counts  and  yet  suffer  from  her 
plebeian  and  Semitic  descent. 

Brenda  thought  that  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  the 
beautiful  Jutta  need  never  trouble  her  again.  They 
were  a  long  way  from  the  house  in  the  Avenue  Road 
and  from  Treva  Rectory;  and  in  February  Brenda 
went  to  Treva  to  see  the  early  daffodils  as  she  had 
promised. 

The  spring  had  come  to  some  warm  corners  of 
Cornwall  earlier  than  usual,  so  early  that  as  Mrs. 
Lovel  gathered  her  violets  and  primroses  in  January 
she  shook  her  head  and  said  that  winter  longed  to  visit 
them  again.  But  it  had  not  arrived  with  any  hard- 
ships when  Brenda  found  herself  on  those  enchanted 
shores  once  more.  Three  and  a  half  years  had  passed 
since  she  had  been  at  Treva,  and  most  things  had 
changed  as  far  as  her  way  in  life  was  concerned ;  but 
when  she  had  unpacked  in  the  room  she  had  occupied 
before,  she  looked  out  of  her  window  at  the  unchang- 
ing, ever  changing  sea  and  sky  and  felt  at  peace  with 
the  world.  Sorrow  itself  became  a  consecrated  thing 
here,  taking  beauty  as  well  as  grief  from  its  surround- 
ings. There  was  sorrow  in  the  Rectory  and  thankful- 
ness too.  The  Rector  grieved  for  his  brother  and  both 
he  and  his  wife  were  still  anxious  about  Andrew,  who 
had  lost  his  left  arm  and  as  far  as  they  knew  was 
still  in  hospital  in  Paris.  They  had  been  over  to  see 
him  when  his  recovery  had  been  uncertain,  and  had 
stayed  till  the  crisis  was  past.  But  he  had  been 
wounded  in  several  places  and  his  recovery  was  slow. 
Still,  lately,  he  had  been  well  enough  to  write  regu- 
larly and  no  letter  had  come  from  him  for  a  week. 

"There  will  be  a  letter  to-morrow,"  the  Rector  said 
at  night,  but  next  morning  there  was  no  letter.  Brenda 


312  SALT  OF  THE  EARTH 

wished  they  would  telegraph  to  Paris,  but  when  she 
suggested  it  they  said  they  would  wait  another  twen- 
ty-four hours.  They  did  not  want  to  harass  the 
hospital  authorities  or  agitate  him  unnecessarily. 

"He  may  be  on  his  way  home,"  the  Rector  said, 
and  Brenda  turned  her  head  as  he  spoke  because  the 
sudden  suggestion,  the  thought  of  seeing  him  again 
set  up  such  a  commotion  in  her  heart  that  it  beat 
riotously  and  silenced  her.  She  knew  her  eyes  and 
her  face  must  be  telling  tales  she  desired  not  to  tell 
yet. 

The  morning  was  so  warm  and  fine  that  she  took 
Violet's  children  down  to  the  rocks  and  played  with 
them  there,  dabbling  in  the  pools,  finding  sea  anemones 
and  little  crabs,  fishing  for  elusive  shrimps  and  gather- 
ing delicious  sprays  of  brown  seaweed.  No  one  could 
think  of  winter  here  this  morning,  whatever  the  cal- 
endar said.  The  sky  was  deep  blue,  the  sea  was  still 
and  the  sun  shone  so  warmly  that  the  water  in  these 
shallow  pools  had  not  chilled  the  children's  hands. 
On  the  cliffs  the  fields  of  early  daffodils  were  in  full 
flower,  the  primroses  were  out  in  sheltered  places, 
and  in  the  Rectory  gardens  the  almonds  and  some 
rhododendrons  were  out,  too.  When  the  children  had 
been  fetched  by  their  nurse  to  have  their  midday  rest 
Brenda  sat  down  on  a  rough  seat  under  the  shelter  of 
the  cliff  and  looked  out  to  sea,  her  spirit  comforted 
and  healed,  her  thoughts  with  the  men  who  kept  such 
a  paradise  as  this  safe  for  her. 

Under  the  lee  of  the  little  wood 

I'm  sitting  in  the  sun; 
What  will  be  done  in  Flanders 

Before  the  day  be  done? 

Under  my  feet  the  springing  blades 

Are  green  as  green  can  be; 
It's  the  bloody  clay  of  Flanders 

far  rne, 


SALT  OF  THE  EARTH  313 

Above,  beyond  the  larches, 

The  sky  is  very  blue; 
It's  the  smoke  of  hell  in  Flanders 

That  leaves  the  sun  for  you. 

By  nests  in  the  blossoming  elm-tree 
The  wise  rooks  rock  on  bough ; 

What  blasts  of  hell,  in  Flanders, 
Rive  the  bared  branches  now? 

That  was  the  truth  of  the  matter  as  she  saw  it, 
and  so  the  little  poem  cut  from  a  paper  nearly  a  year 
ago  ran  line  upon  line  in  her  thoughts  to-day.  Her 
safety  and  her  joy  in  the  world  were  bought  at  what 
price  of  blood  and  suffering  to  others? 

The  gate  out  of  the  apple  orchard  opened  and  shut 
again,  she  turned  to  see  who  could  be  approaching — 
and  saw  Andrew,  pale,  worn,  maimed  .  .  .  but  coming 
toward  her  with  the  look  in  his  eyes  that  she  knew. 
All  the  sorrow  and  the  suffering  in  the  world  passed 
from  her  for  one  moment  of  supreme  and  incom- 
municable joy.  Whatever  happened  later,  life  had 
given  them  this  meeting,  and  the  new  sense  of  freedom 
and  the  deep  well  of  thankfulness  that  out  of  the 
clutches  of.  death  he  came  back  to  her  alive. 


THE  END 


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